


Poaching

by Teland



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Backstory, Blindfolds, Cock Rings, First Time, Genital Torture, Happy Ending, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Questionable Humor, Romance, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 02:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: In which Clark and Bruce are big, weird perverts who can occasionally do things right for people other than themselves. Mostly by accident.





	1. Clark is the helpfulest. Yes. That's what we're calling it.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naughtypixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughtypixie/gifts).



> So, the WIP that this *complete* story got carved out of is about 8k longer than this, and includes Dick's actual presence, and some -- not all -- of the useful conversation that's hinted at below. I never could get all of it out, though, and what *is* there in those 8k is, I think, pulled in too many directions by the addition of another *present* focus for all the hot, sticky D/s. I've gotten a lot better in recent years at writing stories where one dom takes care of -- and is cared for *by* -- multiple submissives, but at the time I was writing this... 
> 
> Yeah, no. 
> 
> I may still post those 8k words in the interest of WIP amnesty, or I may try to rework them someday into their own story -- there's a lot of good there. For now? Have a *complete* story that I like *unreservedly*.

There are times when the Cave seems even emptier than it had in the years before Bruce had managed to make it into a truly useful space. 

There are times when every draft blows cold, when the rush of the underground river seems to mock, when -- 

Dick has not been home for the better part of a week, and -- 

And Bruce reflexively opens his hands. There is no reason to make a fist. 

Dick has taught Bruce, time and again, that the choice between trusting Dick and worrying about him is a simple one. Dick has taught Bruce *many* things over the past two years, but that was, by far, the most important lesson. It -- 

Wasn't it? 

Bruce frowns down at his -- taped, at the moment -- hands. It's time for him to train -- past time, truly -- and -- 

And Dick will come home when he can. 

Now is not the time to fill his mind with morbid fantasies of the Troy girl -- and it would be her; she has been Dick's second from the very beginning -- coming to him in brave tears to speak of some failed mission -- 

Some danger which had proven too terrible -- 

Harvey, Bruce has not said to Dick, nearly killed you. He nearly took you from me forever, and I don't know what -- 

He doesn't know what would become of him, then. 

He doesn't know --

If he could never again hold Dick in his arms -- 

("You *gotta* hug me, Bruce! It's the rule for leaving and coming back!" 

"And what of the time of absence?" 

"You have to make *up* for those times!")

And Dick had leapt easily -- so easily -- into Bruce's arms, heedless of the roughness of body armor, the slick coldness of leather -- 

Dick had wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and squeezed so tightly, always so tightly -- 

And the kiss for Bruce's cheek had been *blanked* by the cowl -- 

But there are times when Bruce needs just that absence of sensation, just that... lack. Or, rather, there are *parts* of him which need that, and Dick is more than wise enough to know that. 

To give *gifts*, even though those parts of Bruce have given *Dick* so little --

Those parts are useful, and often they can drive him to do the necessary work when nothing else can. Those parts had, secretly, rejoiced at the idea of Dick having a team of his own, because the time he gave to them would *free* Bruce for still more training. 

*Improvement*. 

Those parts had not reckoned on... emptiness. 

Here, in this moment, he is surrounded by Dick's spare uniforms. He keeps ten at Titans Tower, and twenty here. They are fragile things -- 

He is clenching his fists again. 

He stops that. He -- 

He has begun to keep a sketchpad near to the spare uniforms for times like these. Bruce has suggested eighteen alternate -- and sturdier -- new uniforms for Robin. Dick has, thus far, rejected them all. 

Sometimes he comes home with wounds -- 

("Oh, Bruce, it's *nothing*!" 

"Your liver --" 

"Is under lots of perfectly healthy *muscle*. Stop *fussing*.") 

Bruce adds a thin layer of Kevlar to his latest redesign, making sure to depict the flexibility it *will* allow -- 

Dick must have -- 

And, truly, if the tights are tight *enough*, then, perhaps, the fact that they reveal far less -- 

There is a part of his mind which only wants to look at the rest askance for reaching a point in his life where questions of *tightness* and how *revealing* a uniform is could become this *important* -- 

("I'm a *showman*, Bruce. *Remember* that.") 

Bruce smiles helplessly as he sketches. Dick's hair had been wild from sleep, and the pillows had left wrinkles on his cheek. He had been bare save for his pajama pants, and he had slid down the banister -- 

And flipped onto his hands -- 

And onto his feet -- 

And back onto his hands for a *run* to the small dining room -- 

And he had responded to Bruce's scolding with a blend of contempt and unassailable pride. He -- 

He had been beautiful, *always* beautiful, and Bruce had not kissed him. Not that time, and not any of the other times when the thought -- 

When the *desire* had struck him. 

He had not kissed him, or suckled his small nipples, or bitten his throat -- so pale under olive -- 

The sketch is gaining a certain degree of... heat. He sets aside the pad and looks over the spare uniforms for flaws -- 

But of course Alfred had already done that, and if he were to catch Bruce doing it again -- 

There would be offended sniffs. Possibly worse. 

He gives himself a moment to sniff at the collar of one of Dick's suits. At this point, even the detergent Alfred had chosen for Dick is enough to bring memories of him near -- 

Near enough that he can work. That -- 

The heavy bag. 

Bruce adjusts his jock and moves to the thing, pausing only to double-check the tape on his knuckles -- 

It's fine, and so Bruce begins, testing himself for strains and fatigue, for slippage, for overconfidence -- 

A partner is much better for that sort of thing -- 

Someone to hold the *bag* is much better for -- 

And why had he ever thought he wouldn't need a partner? So much more can be *achieved* -- 

Right now, Dick is helping his team to achieve things they otherwise would not. *Could* not. Or... 

Bruce frowns and allows his mind's eye to fill with the image of -- Starfire. 

Koriand'r. 

Her powers are incomprehensible. Her attitudes toward necessary and unnecessary violence are suspect when they are not simply horrifying. What she chooses to wear as a *uniform* --

... had probably made perfect, objective sense to Dick. It... 

It's enough to make him laugh, however internally, and he is grateful for that. He -- 

Of course Dick wouldn't choose to wait (for him). There was no reason for him to do so. There -- 

It's not as if Bruce could have ever *asked* for such a thing. Never mind Clark -- Dick had never so much as *hinted* at the desire they both knew he felt for Bruce in a moment when they could discuss it. He -- he had, almost certainly, known what Bruce would say about it. 

Dick has been... 

Dick has been making love with his team from nearly the very beginning. He doesn't even blush, anymore, when Bruce teases him about how much he enjoys their company. His smiles have become sly and knowing things, but Bruce knows that knowledge remains limited in some respects. 

Dick has never seen Bruce sniffing his uniforms. 

Dick has slept through Bruce watching him sleep. 

Dick -- 

Dick has no idea how very many times Bruce has masturbated to the thought of his increasingly-scarred skin; his rough, callused hands; his joyful, heedless smiles -- 

Is he heedless when he makes love with Starfire? 

He calls her 'Kory' and is troubled, at times, by the violence in her soul -- 

Her age is, roughly, comparable to Dick's own. Just the same, she is nearly nine inches taller than he is, and very much heavier. Significantly so when her hair... changes. 

In one of the many ways it does so. 

Bruce switches to jabs, dancing on his feet to compensate for the motions of the bag -- 

And then Clark is holding it for him and smiling at him. Warmly. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" 

Clark -- pouts. 

Bruce shakes his head and goes back to punishing the bag -- 

"You were happy!" 

"I truly wasn't --" 

"Well, no, you weren't, but you *were* aroused," Clark says, and looks at him -- sternly. 

"I was not thinking --" 

"Of me? No. You always look irritated when arousal leads you in my... ah... direction," Clark says, and smiles again. "Was it Dick?" 

Clark has shown no compunctions whatsoever about sharing his sexuality with both the youthful and the young. 

Clark -- 

Clark has *offered* Bruce the truth of his sexuality in ways both prurient and matter-of-fact. 'Judge me,' he seems to say, 'if you can.' 

He knows -- far better than even Alfred, who had guided Bruce away from the Wayne Foundation's children's charities over a decade ago with a knowing look of his own -- that Bruce can do no such thing. 

He knew the first night he *saw* Robin with Batman -- 

And smelled him. He --

"I have a question," Bruce says, and slowly adds more and more power to his punches -- 

"Oh -- that's deeply impressive --" 

"Thank you. But?" 

"Ask, of course," Clark says, and his expression is guileless, open, curious -- 

Bruce frowns -- 

_{You may have anything of me, my companion.}_

Bruce represses a grunt, but nods. "When you became aware of my attraction to Dick..." 

"Oh, that was impressive, too. You had no expression on your face *whatsoever* --" 

"I was trying --" 

"And succeeding. But your scent..." And Clark breathes deeply. "Stronger than this. Deeper. It always is when he's near to you." 

"Yes. I... did you..." Bruce frowns and focuses on his punches for twenty seconds -- 

Thirty -- 

Forty-five -- 

"It's all right, Bruce. Whatever it is." 

"Are you quite sure --" 

"I'd already given myself this time to be... some approximation of free --" 

"Short of disaster." 

"Yes, yes. There isn't a *single* comet hurtling toward Earth at the moment." 

Bruce looks at Clark. 

Clark sighs disgustedly. "They're all *extremely* far away, Bruce, and anyway, I've already saved the lives of three hundred eighty-four people today. In this hemisphere *alone*." 

Bruce hums. "As you say --" 

"Ask your *question*!" 

"I..." 

"*Bruce* --" 

"I'd like to know whether you would've chosen to make love with Dick so soon had you *not* been sure that I desired him, as well." 

Clark opens his mouth -- and closes it again. 

Bruce hums again and tries for uppercuts -- 

"You're jealous." 

"Clark." 

"You're actually *jealous*." 

"Is it so strange?" 

"*Yes*, you lunatic! Dick doesn't have a *single* lover who doesn't know, with all of themselves, that he desires *you*. When Dick and *I* make love --" 

"Don't." 

Clark glares at him. 

Bruce takes a deep breath and steps away from the bag, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing more -- 

More -- 

"At least be *honest* with him, Bruce!" 

"No." 

"Bruce --" 

"No, Clark," Bruce says, and looks up to meet Clark's annoyed gaze. "Were he to know how much I... how much I long for him --" 

"*Nothing* would stop him from giving you *both* what you desire --" 

"Precisely." 

"Oh, for the love of *cow* patties, Bruce! He's not *thirteen*, anymore." 

"He is. I have..." Bruce stares down at his hands -- 

Flexes them once -- 

Again -- "I fear myself, Clark." 

"Bruce...?" And Clark uses his speed to close the distance between them, to cup Bruce's shoulders and search him -- 

"You're worried -- I. I confess that you should be --" 

"Do you think you'd *hurt* him?" 

"Not -- physically," Bruce says, and frowns at nothing -- 

At the inside of his own mind -- 

It's so easy to see himself choosing to *limit* Dick, choosing -- "I would... I would have a great deal of difficulty allowing him to leave me again." 

Clark inhales sharply and massages Bruce's shoulders with expert care. "You feel that he's leaving you now. Every time he goes on missions with the Titans?" 

Bruce closes his eyes -- no. He meets Clark's gaze again and does his best to lay himself *bare*. 

"Oh... Bruce," and Clark shakes his head and pulls Bruce close. "Would you take him from me, my companion?" 

"I -- I don't want to." 

"No...?" 

Bruce laughs, and it sounds as painful as it feels, *hurts* as much as it does to grip at Clark's waist with every pound of force he can bring to bear -- 

Clark knows Bruce well enough to know not to soften himself. He -- "I'm listening, Bruce." 

"You have offered to allow me to join the two of you countless times..." 

"I'm offering again. I *know* we could drive Dick *mad* with pleasure --" 

"If -- if I could... behave myself." 

"Bruce --" 

"If I could keep myself from wanting to *tear* him out of your arms -- I --" Bruce growls and pushes Clark back. "I am not --" 

"Ready," Clark says. "You're not *ready*." 

Bruce laughs again. "And how would you suggest I go about *becoming* ready for such a thing? Such a *sight* --" 

"And a smell, a taste -- oh, beloved friend, there are moments when no flavor seems more perfect than that of my ejaculate mingled with Dick's --" 

Bruce grunts -- and covers his face with his hands. 

Clark allows him to keep them there, but Bruce knows he remains close, remains *patient* -- 

"I will -- I will have control over myself --" 

"Frighteningly quickly, I'm sure," Clark says, and the smile in his voice is wry. It -- 

Bruce drops his hands and breathes deeply again -- and smiles. "There are times when I'm quite sure you are the older of us." 

Clark raises an eyebrow -- and then causes his brow and cheeks to furrow impressively, making him look at least thirty years older than his twenty-nine years. 

Bruce raises his own eyebrow -- 

And Clark wheezes querulously. "In my day, we shared the good-lookin' boys *around* --" 

Bruce coughs. "Clark." 

"Eh...? Speak up a little, sonny!" 

"Clark --" 

Clark smacks his lips loudly enough that it's difficult to remember that his teeth are all *real* -- 

"*Clark* --" 

"Yeh *cain't* be selfish with a boy like Dickie, sonny! He's gotta be *free*!" 

Bruce glares at Clark.

Clark makes his eyes water *copiously* -- 

And Bruce coughs until the laugh comes out despite himself. Unsurprisingly, it's easier to breathe once it does -- 

And Clark relaxes his facial muscles and beams at Bruce as if *he* had done a trick. 

"Clark... I would very much like to live the way you do. In *some* of the ways you do." 

"I think that's an excellent start." 

"I haven't the faintest clue how to go *on*," Bruce says, and he's aware of the plea in his voice -- 

The *abject* need -- 

And Clark kisses him firmly, warmly -- 

Clark pulls him close and kisses him all over his face -- 

Nuzzles Bruce's stubble as if it has the most seductive texture imaginable -- 

"Oh -- mmm," Clark says, and kisses him one more time. "Let me show you?" 

"There are... steps?" 

"Ah... well... there's nothing *official*, of course, but there are certain things many people have found helpful over the years." 

Bruce knows he looks exceedingly skeptical -- 

And Clark kisses his nose before leaning back again. "Can we stipulate that you have rather a *lot* of love to give?" 

How well does Dick *read* Bruce when Bruce is watching Harvey do something terrible? 

When Lex calls him out of the blue only so that they can lie to each other for the length of the call? 

When Selina smiles at him, when she teases and offers a scratch, a bite, a lash, a *kiss* -- 

"This is where you say 'yes'," Clark stage-whispers. 

Bruce grunts a laugh. "Yes, I imagine -- yes." 

Clark cups Bruce's face. "You've been holding yourself back for so *long*, beloved friend." 

"The number of biological samples your AI has collected from me would seem to rather *disagree* with that assessment, Clark." 

"It's *December*, Bruce. Leaving aside moments like this one... well. You've allowed me to bring you to orgasm precisely twelve times this year during precisely five visits." 

Bruce winces -- "I've -- neglected you --" 

"I am confident enough about such things that I can say, with authority, that you have neglected *yourself*." 

Bruce laughs again, helplessly -- 

And Clark smiles at him. "I love you with all of myself, Bruce. If you didn't allow me to share that with you from time to time... I think I would break. As *you* are going to break if you don't share the love in your heart with --" 

"I -- I *can't* with Dick --" 

"No, not with Dick. Not *yet*, because you've let that go so far that sometimes your hands shake when you're bandaging his *back*." 

"You've -- seen that." 

"I pay attention to things which interest me, beloved friend. You know that." 

"So I do. Who *do* you suggest I... love?" 

"Well, it was tempting -- *unbelievably* tempting -- to suggest myself, but I already know that I'm not enough for you in these respects." 

"Clark --" 

"There's a boy... hmm. There's a very beautiful young man who I've had my eyes on for a quite a while. He... oh, don't look at me like that! He's not a *civilian*." 

Bruce blinks. "He... isn't? No, no, I can't just -- not with a stranger --" 

And the *breadth* of Clark's smile is enough to cut Bruce off. "Who said anything about a stranger...?"

Bruce frowns. "Then... I don't understand." 

"No, you don't *want* to understand, but we'll get there. One, he is unspeakably lonely without his partner -- I can *smell* it -- and he is without his partner very, very often. Two, he loves Dick just as much as we do, and will understand a need to confide about him -- he'll have the same need. Three, he is strong, and beautiful, and brave, and skilled, and more than willing to be made *more* skilled. Four, he has been sexually active for the better part of two years -- and he has been active with adults, as well." 

Oh... "With you?" 

Clark smiles again. "I've been hoping -- desperately -- to share him with you." 

Bruce shivers and remembers Clark's expression on *that* day -- 

The day the boy had attempted a harmless prank -- a suction-cup arrow aimed at Bruce's cowl -- 

Bruce had caught it, of course, and the boy had -- gasped. 

"Speedy." 

"Roy Harper. Did it truly take you that long to open yourself to possibility?" 

"I." Bruce frowns. "He's on Dick's *team* --" 

"And will be for the foreseeable future. But he remains lonely. Have you allowed yourself to see his eyes on any of your trips to New York...?" 

Bruce shakes his head, but he's not -- 

He's not saying no, and Clark knows it. Clark moves up behind him and leans in to whisper in his ear. "He admires you a great deal." 

("... and then we just sat around and talked for a while. Almost all *night*. I've never really *had* anyone like that, Bruce! Well, other than you and my parents.") 

And Bruce had ignored the sting of conscience, of -- 

("What... what did you talk about?" 

"Oh, you know. The mission we just finished up, other missions we had done. Stuff we'd done back home, too. *Everyone* wants to hear about *you*, Bruce."

"Really.") 

And Dick had giggled and leapt onto the back of Bruce's chair, standing on his hands and spinning, splitting, *kicking* -- 

Bruce could see everything in the powered-down monitors -- 

It hadn't been *enough* -- 

But he has had *time* enough to know that the concept of 'enough' when held against the *truths* of Dick is as meaningless and as small as a psychological breakthrough at Arkham: In the end, there will be little enough difference -- no. 

No, he shouldn't allow himself to think that -- 

Clark kisses his ear. "Where did you go?" 

"Arkham." 

Clark shudders. "And you're quite sure I'm still not allowed to rebuild it along the lines of the Slab?" 

"There have been six *successful* escapes from the Slab this year alone, Clark --" 

"And how many from *Arkham*?" 

"Hnn. Five." 

"Are you --" Clark sighs and squeezes Bruce's shoulders -- and then snickers somewhat helplessly. It is, as ever, wonderful to be in the presence of laughter he'd caused -- but *not* by being hopelessly awkward and ridiculous -- 

Hm. Not ridiculous in *unpleasant* ways, at least. 

Bruce steps back into Clark's warmth -- 

"Oh -- mm. Yes?" 

"Nothing -- nothing in particular --" 

"Bruce." 

"I am very --" Bruce takes a deep breath and forces himself to stand straight, to look up, to breathe *properly* -- 

But of course Clark is there to pull him close once more, to hold him just as if he knows how much Bruce needs -- 

How much Bruce needs on a daily *basis* -- 

_{Please do speak, my companion.}_

Bruce is *panting* -- 

He stops that immediately, and allows his mind to do what it will, because -- 

Because there are times when Harper -- Roy -- joins Dick for his trips home. He -- 

("Holy shit, this place is *huge*!") 

And Dick's pride had been no smaller, no *quieter* -- 

("Uh, hunh. Wait 'til you see the computers."

"We *have* computers -- oh. Damn.") 

And Dick had *giggled* -- 

And Roy had walked around and around the supercomputers like a man determined to get to know -- and improve -- an engine for a powerful vehicle. By Dick's own reports, Roy's computer skills are only average -- 

But his curiosity had been enough to make Dick impatient -- 

("C'mon, you gotta see the *bikes*!"

"Oh -- fuck, yeah --" 

"And watch the *cursing*! He's gonna be down any minute!")

And Roy had grinned and waggled his eyebrows behind his domino -- 

("How sure are you that he isn't *already* down here somewhere...?") 

And for a moment Bruce had considered stepping out of the shadows -- 

Cupping Roy's strong and broadening shoulders -- 

Saying something -- 

Something *creepy* -- 

But Dick had shuddered *while* snickering -- and pulling Roy bodily toward the vehicles -- 

The moment had passed. Bruce frowns -- 

"Yes?" 

"I... don't think I should allow you to... convince me in this way --" 

"I think you should." 

"Clark --" 

"I *really* think you should, because..." And Clark inhales deeply near Bruce's throat. "That's a combination of scents -- arousal scents -- that I'm not at all familiar with. Yet?" 

"He is..." 

"Yes?" 

"Of course... he is... attractive." 

"He has freckles on his abdomen." 

Bruce -- doesn't shiver. 

"He has more across the backs of his shoulders, and in a meandering path down his spine. He tans himself often --" 

"This -- there is so little sunlight --" 

"I will smack you." 

Bruce grunts a laugh. "Clark, I believe I am *allowed* to resist developing an obsession with *another* teenaged boy." 

"Well, of course, you *could* do things that way," Clark says, and cups Bruce's hips -- 

"The idea --" 

"No, I'm sorry, you can't. Because you *already* desire him." 

Bruce swallows. "That is -- no reason --" 

"You've thought about him. You've wanted him..." Clark sighs and nuzzles Bruce's ear. "Tell me about it." 

"How much pleasure do you *take* in 'corrupting' me?" 

Clark smiles. "I think you can guess."

Bruce hums and covers Clark's hands with his own. "So I can. Still --" 

"Do you know where Oliver is right now?" 

"I... haven't the faintest clue --" 

"He's in North Dakota with Hal, and the two of them are arguing about the best way to go about changing a flat tire. It's a good-natured argument, and it will likely keep them busy for much of the day, forcing them to sleep out in the middle of nowhere -- nowhere near a telephone, certainly --" 

"Hal has --" 

"His powers, yes, but he never really uses them at times like these. The ring *monitors* such things, and has been known to fail him at inopportune moments." 

Bruce narrows his eyes -- no. "You... brought that up for a reason." 

"Yes." 

And that... can only mean one thing. "How long has it been since Oliver has been home for Roy?" 

"Oh... the better part of the last month. Roy spends as much time as possible in New York, but, of course, Star City needs attention, as well." 

"You are..." 

"Yes?" 

Bruce shakes his head. "I am not his guardian."

"You don't think that helps? *I* think it helps --"

"Clark --" 

"Do you know where Roy is right now?" 

For a moment, Bruce is only frightened, only -- 

What is Clark failing to interrupt? 

What -- could the boy need to be saved from something? Bruce starts to step away -- 

But Clark tightens his grip. He -- 

"*Clark*." 

"He's on the Turnpike, Bruce. He has... mm. Well, he never even paused by the exit for the airport. The rest of the team -- save for Dick and Koriand'r -- have long since scattered --" 

"Dick --" 

"Has allowed himself to be convinced to stay in New York for somewhat longer. It *is* his winter vacation, and he knows you would summon him immediately were he needed." 

The pain for that -- 

The *urge* to -- to cry *wolf* -- 

And Clark kisses Bruce's ear again. "Roy has watched you extensively, Bruce." 

Bruce blinks and *turns* in Clark's arms -- Clark allows it. "What are you saying?" 

Clark's smile is wry and warm at once. "He asked Dick last night if he thought you ever got... lonely." 

Bruce stiffens. "What -- no, I don't want to --" 

"Dick told him that he was absolutely sure you did, but that you would never, ever admit it." 

Bruce feels himself *flushing* -- 

And Clark strokes his cheek. "I wonder, sometimes, what Dick would do if he knew... this --" 

Bruce frowns and turns away -- no, he moves to the console, and calls up the tracer information that he had restrained himself from checking before this point. He had asked Dick to plant tracers in or on his teammates' primary vehicles -- 

He had resisted the urge to ask him to bug their *bodies* -- 

Just as he had resisted the urge to place more than *two* tracers in Dick's body. 

He had promised Dick all the privacy and freedom he *could* give -- 

Donna Troy's motorcycle is parked at the Themysciran embassy in downtown Manhattan. 

Wally West's boots -- if not, necessarily, his body -- are traveling rapidly through southern Indiana. 

Garth's mystically-enhanced jet-ski is parked off the coast of Manhattan. Bruce has no tracers which can withstand the pressures Garth habitually exposes himself to. 

Dick... 

Koriand'r's uniforms are all in Titans Tower, as are all of Dick's motorcycles and Dick himself. 

"Would you like to know --" 

"No," Bruce says, and can't keep his voice from being much too *curt* -- 

But Clark only begins massaging Bruce's shoulders. He is -- 

"You are too -- tolerant." 

"It's true. Roy found the tracer Dick had hidden on his bike and crushed it beneath his heel." 

"When?" 

"Just before he began traveling in this direction." 

"You were -- *why* were you watching him?" 

"He had been weeping earlier." 

Bruce inhales sharply --

"I already know you will not use that knowledge against him." 

"Is he --" Bruce shakes his head -- 

"*Ask*." 

"Is he often *depressed*." 

"Yes, but never for very long. He fights it back viciously." 

"Does Oliver --" 

"No, he does not know," Clark says, and calls up Bruce's file on Roy. "I strongly suspect that he never will." 

Bruce narrows his eyes and nods. That makes perfect sense for an adolescent male with Roy's -- hm. 

"Yes, Bruce?" 

Bruce studies the many images of Roy Dick had provided. There are more of him than there are of any other Titan -- including Koriand'r -- and Bruce is not at all sure that Dick knows that. He -- "Does *anyone* know of his emotional difficulties other than the two of us?" 

"Well... going by my... ah..." 

"Surveillance, Clark." 

"Yes, well. Donna suspects he isn't being completely forthcoming. Wally pooh-poohed the very idea. Garth invites Roy into his tank whenever possible. Dick... well." 

"Dick offers himself, of course." 

"Mm-hm. Roy has ways of deflecting that sort of conversation." 

Bruce narrows his eyes more -- no. 

No. 

Dick is not his property, and *this* jealousy is not... clean. 

Could any sort of jealousy be described that way? Is there worth in even giving his time to the *study* of such things? 

"He is... a wonderful lover, Bruce." 

"You have only observed --" 

"Yes, well, I've gotten to be very *adept* at that sort of thing," Clark says, and his voice has -- finally -- gained a degree of waspishness. 

Bruce smiles tightly. "Have you." 

"Oh --" And Clark puffs a breath at Bruce's nose, chilling it just enough to cause large amounts of *ridiculous* discomfort without also causing cellular damage. 

"Was that truly necessary --" 

"*Yes*. I've *waited* for you, Bruce!" 

"You might have *told* me --" 

"You wouldn't have *listened*. You *never* listen about this sort of thing -- but you're listening now." 

"My desperation --" 

"Is desperately *attractive*. And -- he's coming to you." 

"You don't *know* --" 

"Of *course* I know that, Bruce! He was studying Gotham maps from the time Dick closed Koriand'r's door behind himself --" 

Bruce growls despite himself -- 

"You're not *ready* for Dick. We both know that --" 

"Roy -- Roy will not appreciate being a *replacement*, Clark --" 

"Then don't treat him that way. You're not *capable* of doing that, anyway --" 

"How do you *know* that --" 

But Clark only looks at him. Loudly. 

Bruce sighs, surrenders, and chafes his nose until it stops feeling as if it's moments away from falling off. 

"Are you sorry?" 

"Would you *believe* me if I said yes, Clark?" 

"Well... no, actually," Clark says, puffing warm air at Bruce's nose, and then sighing. He calls up an image of Roy leaning against a wall in the Tower's gymnasium. He is dressed in moderately tight jeans and a t-shirt missing much of its lower half. He is smiling like a much older boy -- 

He is smiling in *open* invitation -- 

"I want him very, very badly, of course." 

"Then --" 

"He did not choose to ride to Metropolis, Bruce. More to the point, it is not me to whom his gaze gravitates when our teams work together." 

"He watches *Oliver* --" 

"For cues, yes. But when you -- inevitably -- take over --" 

"Clark --" 

"I can *smell* him, my companion. And I know exactly when he starts to ache for you. When he turns to Dick in *confusion*." 

That... sounded somewhat ominous. Bruce turns to look at Clark, who is smiling *sharply*. "What is it?" 

"Are you sure I should tell you, Bruce...? I wouldn't want to impinge on his secrets --" 

"*Clark* --" 

And Clark laughs softly and easily before lowering his head for a moment -- 

And when he looks up his hair is mussed, his smile is *wet*, and his eyebrows are raised. "You don't believe me, 'mano?" 

Roy's voice. Roy -- 

"You don't think he wants you so bad he can *taste* you?" 

"He's -- he was speaking about me." 

Clark -- *Roy* licks his teeth. "You can see it when he looks at you sometimes, Dickie. You can see it in the *way* he does it, like there's nothing in the *world* he wants to see more than you." And then Clark shifts his features into the more familiar configuration. "Dick, of course, argued that that was because you loved him just as he loved you. Roy seized on *that*... well, eventually Dick made him change the subject." 

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut -- no, he cannot allow himself... that. He opens his eyes once more. "He wishes to protect Dick from me." 

"Oh, yes. He is one of the most protective people I've ever met -- even taking our community into account." 

"He is... he is coming to me to be sure I do not *prey* on Dick." 

Clark blinks. "I... suppose that's possible? Hm." 

"The idea never occurred to you." 

"You wouldn't *prey* on *anyone* --" 

"Roy has no reason to know that -- or to believe that even if he were told." 

Clark's expression turns sour. 

Bruce laughs somewhat painfully. "He could very well be coming here to offer himself in an attempt to *protect* Dick." 

"Now there's a fantasy I haven't had --" 

"Clark." 

"Honestly, Bruce, a viable sense of humor will not *end the world*." 

"I did laugh --" 

"Not enough. Not the right *way* -- oh. He's made it into Bristol. Think about what you'll *say* to him!" 

"I will welcome him, and ask him if there is anything he wishes to discuss, and then I will gently recommend that he go back to New York --" 

"No, no, *no* --" 

"*Clark* --" 

"Look, I -- have a conversation with him. Please. For me?" 

"I'm hardly the proper choice for a *confidant* --"

"And yet you're the one he *has* chosen, Bruce. You and I both know that such things have *meaning*." 

("Master Bruce, what of your *education*?" 

"It has only just begun, Alfred. And only I can choose how it will continue.") 

He had been -- horrifically pompous, but -- 

("What... what are you *wearing*?" 

"My uniform! I'm your partner now, Batman!")

Clark, as always, has a point. Bruce takes a deep breath and switches the monitors' views to the back roads leading to the Cave. 

It doesn't take long before Speedy's red-and-yellow motorcycle comes into view. His speed is between fifty and sixty-five miles per hour... and he is wearing his uniform. 

Bruce nods in helpless approval -- 

"Bruce --" 

"I will speak with him if he wishes to speak with me. I will... I will not turn him aside." 

"Oh -- *more* --" 

Bruce holds up a hand. "He was weeping earlier today, Clark. That does not seem like the proper state of mind for a seduction." 

"I *disagree* --" 

"Clark. There is *nothing* stopping you from --" 

"Plying my troth?" 

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him -- 

And Clark smiles sheepishly. "He's such a *wise* young man. All of my usual modes of seduction seem... small." 

"You *could* consider having a conversation with him. As you wish *me* to do." 

"I suppose, but -- you hear his bike now, don't you?" 

"Yes," Bruce says, and *looks* at Clark -- 

And, if anything, his smile grows even *more* sheepish. "I'll be in touch," he says, and flies -- 

And, by the time Roy pulls into one of the spare parking spaces, there is no sign of Clark, at all. 

Bruce shuts down the monitors and moves to join Roy near the cars, noting the care he takes to check its fluids, its tires, its exhaust system...

He is precisely as thorough as he should be, and Bruce can't quite keep himself from nodding in approval again -- 

And Roy smiles at him, impish and bright. "Hey, Bruce." 

Bruce inclines his head. "Roy." 

Roy bites his lip -- but only for a moment before he hangs his helmet from the handlebar and peels off his mask. The adhesive he and Oliver use for their dominos is much, much less sturdy than the one he had chosen for Dick, and requires no solvent for release. 

He is... 

He is tall for his age -- nearly five feet, nine inches, already -- and is as leanly well-muscled as he should be. His hair... 

Bruce always expects Roy's hair -- which is a shade of red more reminiscent of sunsets than of carrots or strawberries -- to be longer than it is. Right now, it is a thick and somewhat sweaty mass which doesn't reach beyond the tops of his ears. 

His eyes are green and cautious. 

His mouth -- 

Bruce does not allow himself to consider Roy's mouth. "Clark told me you were coming." 

Roy blinks. "Uh. Really? He -- is he here?" 

"He had other business," Bruce says, and tries to think of something -- 

Something *else* -- 

He shakes his head. "May I offer you something to eat or drink?" 

"I'm good -- no. Water. Water would be good," Roy says, and his smile is rueful.

Bruce inclines his head again. "Follow me, please." 

"I know where -- but sure," and Roy shakes his own head. 

They walk in silence to the small refrigerator dedicated to food-use only which Dick had insisted be installed in the Cave. Dick prefers his water to be as icy as possible, despite the numerous headaches he gives himself -- 

And Roy drinks slowly and deeply, shivering when the cold touches him. 

His nipples are visibly hard through his thin uniform top -- no. 

Bruce drinks his own bottle of water, and waits. 

"So..." 

"Yes, Roy?" 

"I -- heh. You're not gonna ask me why I'm here?" 

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "Should I?"


	2. It may not be easy, but it *is* worthwhile.

Had he really expected Bruce to make this easy on him? Is Bruce even capable of making *anything* easy? 

At all? *Ever*? 

Roy laughs and shoves a hand back through his hair and -- "I don't know what I'm doing here." 

"Already we have something in common." 

Oh -- hey. Roy looks at Bruce from under his lashes. "You're joking with me?" 

Bruce... smiles. It's small. It's *tiny*, but -- "That sort of thing... is *less* uncommon after I've spent a significant amount of time with Clark." 

Roy -- okay, the leer is pretty much reflexive at this point, but -- 

But Bruce raises that eyebrow just like Roy is the hormonal teenage goof-off in this conversation. Right. 

Roy takes a deep breath, drinks more water, and -- "I'm not -- I don't actually have a reason for being here." 

"All right." 

Roy blinks. "'All right'? That's it?" 

"Yes." 

"Should I -- get out?" 

"Do you want to?" 

Roy frowns and -- doesn't shift on his feet. It's not like he's a four-year-old who needs to *pee* or something -- "Do *you* want me to?" And Roy is braced, he's *braced* -- 

"No." 

"Oh." 

"Train with me?" 

Roy blinks again. "I -- seriously?" 

"Yes," Bruce says, and... looks him over. Just -- 

The fact that that *shouldn't* be enough to make Roy's cock start thinking about *hammering* on his armored jock -- 

Shoulds are pretty much meaningless when it comes to his cock. Roy's known that since he was ten and running around trying to steal kisses on the rez. Now... 

Now Bruce Wayne -- who is sometimes the Batman -- is looking him over just like he can see everywhere Roy's tired and wired and fucked-up and just fucking *flawed* -- 

And Roy's cock is talking to him. "Sure," he says, and tries a smile -- 

And the look on Bruce's face says he knows it wasn't real, but -- 

"It's okay --" 

Bruce frowns, but he nods. "Let me spot you on the weights." 

"I'm pretty good at --" 

Bruce looks at him. Just -- 

"Okay, yeah, you can spot me," Roy says, and scrubs at the back of his neck where he can just *feel* his skin getting ready to clash with his hair. Right. What is he *doing* here? 

What -- 

This is why no one lets him make any fucking *plans* -- 

"Roy." 

"Uh. Yeah?" 

"You need not train with me --" 

"No! No. I didn't get enough gym time today before I left --" Except that that makes it sound like he's a fucking *slacker* -- "I mean --" What the hell *does* he mean? Roy winces and just -- "Okay. Uh. Can I start over?" 

"Yes." 

Even Bruce's *voice* is -- heavy. Really -- 

("God, Roy, sometimes he's talking to me about training or some parolee's rap sheet or *math* and I just get so caught up on his voice --" 

"Kinda. Kinda growl-y?") 

And Dick had *moaned* -- 

("Yeah. Yeah. But that's just for the Batman. His *other* voice -- his *real* voice. His *soft* voice -- is even better.") 

And Roy had been ready -- *all* set -- to chalk that up to Dick being just as soft inside as anyone could want, as anyone could ever *need* -- 

Like there could *be* a soft side to the Batman. Like there could ever even-- 

But here he is, and here *Bruce* is, and he looks worried and curious and -- 

"Are you -- open?" 

Bruce raises an eyebrow again. "I try to be. Sometimes." 

"Like... now?" 

Bruce nods once. 

Roy bites his lip *hard*, hard enough to give him some pain he can focus on -- 

But he can't keep himself from shivering when Bruce cups his shoulders and squeezes. 

"God, your hands -- uh. Ignore that --" 

"Roy..." 

"Fuck. I. I know you want him. You don't -- I get why you hide it from him, okay? I get it." 

"Do you?" 

"What? I mean -- yeah. I get it. You don't want to -- you don't want to f-- get involved with a teenager." 

For some reason, that makes Bruce tighten his grip on Roy's shoulders -- 

Roy doesn't fucking *moan* -- 

"I'm afraid it's more than that. And less." 

"Oh. Oh?" 

Bruce -- laughs. It's just a couple of notes and barely any *breath* --

Roy tries another smile. Just to join *in* -- 

"No," Bruce says, and it *feels* like the Batman looking into him, feels -- 

"'No'?" 

"Don't pretend to emotions you don't feel. Please." 

"I was just --" 

"Please." 

*Fuck* -- "I -- okay. I'm not -- I'm not *sad* --" 

"No?" 

Ollie -- *no*. And it almost hurts *more* not to pull on a smile, but he doesn't, and he nods to Bruce. "You were gonna... tell me something, maybe? Something about Dick?" 

Bruce squeezes his shoulders again. "Is that what you would prefer?" 

I'd *prefer* to drop to my knees and suck you *down* -- "Uh. Yes? Yes." 

Another laugh. "Roy." 

"Okay, that was a *transparent* lie, and I get that, but I think you'll totally understand why I did it. Said it." 

"Yes?" 

"You don't need -- you don't need me climbing all over you." 

Bruce takes -- a quick breath. Just that, and it's enough to make Roy want to move, smile, put his hands up, promise not to be a dog unless Bruce *likes* that sort of thing -- 

Something -- 

Bruce doesn't move his hands. They're just -- 

Right there. 

Roy licks his lips. "Or... do you?" 

"Roy --" 

"Because. Uh. It's gotta be pretty obvious that I want you, Bruce. I mean -- it is, isn't it?" 

"In... retrospect, yes. But --" 

"I'm too young. Right? Or -- something?" 

"With Dick. With Dick I am... too possessive." 

Roy frowns. "He said you never try to get in his way. I mean -- I would've *noticed* if you did --" 

"You don't know my dreams," Bruce says, just like that, and it's flat and heavy and -- 

Really fucking hot. Roy *breathes* for just a second, tries to think -- "You could tell me about them." 

"Roy..."

Fuck, fuck -- "I'll tell you about mine. About. Sometimes I'm this close to seeing how much beer it would take to make Dickie a little less than perfect so I *could* tie him up --" 

"Make. You would still him." 

"Yeah. Yeah. Just -- for a little while." 

Bruce *nods*, and that -- 

Roy steps *closer* -- 

But Bruce winces and steps *back* and turns *around* -- 

*Fuck*. "I'm sorry -- I wouldn't --" 

"Don't," Bruce says, and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"I... could shut up --" 

"Not that, either," Bruce says, and laughs again. "Or..." Bruce shakes his head and turns back. "Roy. What do you want of me?" 

*Of* him, not *from* him, and just that little word -- 

Only -- 

Only maybe it's not really a little word, at all -- 

"Please tell me." 

"Uh -- right now. Right now, I kinda want to feel your hands on me again," Roy says, and his face feels like it's *broiling* -- 

And Bruce is staring at his hands. His big, hard knuckles are taped, but he's Bruce, and he's just -- 

"I think -- fuck, I think I'd take a *punch*, even," and Roy laughs because he *has* to -- 

"A -- you would like a spar?" And Bruce sounds so *hopeful* -- 

"We could call it that, sure --" 

"*No*," Bruce says, and that was the Batman's growl, but it also wasn't. There was too much *heat* -- 

There *is* too much heat in Bruce's *eyes* -- 

And Roy moans because he has to do *that*, too -- "I'm jealous -- fuck." 

Bruce blinks -- but then he narrows his eyes and stares *into* Roy. "Of Dick." 

"He -- yeah. I'm sorry, look, I'll get outta here --" 

"Stay where you are," Bruce says, and there's something in his eyes -- 

Something that looks like confusion and fucking *worry* -- "I'll never -- I'll never do anything to hurt him --" 

"I know that," and Bruce's eyes... change. There's something hard in them, but the heat is still there -- 

The heat is *more* there, or -- 

"Roy... you are not...." Bruce shakes his head. "You're very sexually experienced." 

"Yeah, sorry --" 

"*No*," and that's real *anger* -- 

"Jesus, Bruce, just tell me --" 

"I... am not especially experienced," he says, and the words need a rueful smile, but the *tone* doesn't. The tone is -- 

"I -- no?" 

"No. I've only ever made love with two people. Two men." 

Roy swallows. "You ever. You ever think about how gay this community is?" 

"Yes," Bruce says, and his smile is a *flash* -- "I do. Roy... my experience is telling me *precisely* one thing in answer to the question of what you want of me." 

"Yeah, I -- I'm being obvious --" 

Bruce holds up a hand. 

Roy -- stops. And waits -- 

And Bruce nods. "My experience is also telling me precisely one thing about *how* you want me." 

And Roy's stomach just -- turns over, because it's Bruce, it's the Batman, it's the world's greatest fucking *detective* -- 

And dropping to his knees is the easiest -- 

The sweetest -- 

The *best* -- 

"Roy. Have you done *this* before?" 

"I've -- I've sucked off all kinds of --" 

"No," Bruce says, and his voice is still so heavy, so -- 

Dark is a good word for it, dark like something that can make all the light go *away* until you're nothing but blind and warm and *needy* -- but he has to think right now. He really -- 

Bruce touches Roy's face. Just -- just his cheek -- 

"I'm -- I should've waited until later in the day to shave --" 

"Your stubble is both sparse and soft," Bruce says, and strokes down to beneath Roy's chin -- 

Lifts Roy's *face* -- "You want my eyes for this?" 

Bruce nods once and stares into him. 

"I can do that. I can -- I've... played around. You know. BDSM." 

"With... Wonder Girl?" 

Roy grins helplessly. "Dick says they let *you* onto Themyscira once. That had to be --" 

"Roy." 

Roy takes a quick breath -- "Sorry. Sorry." 

Bruce nods once and steps back -- 

"Please -- I can be good --" 

"Stand up, Roy." 

"Oh -- God, I'm *sorry* --" 

"*Up*." 

Jesus fucking -- 

He's fucked this up *already* -- 

But he can stand, and he can look at Bruce, and he can -- 

And he can breathe, a little, because Bruce looks... hard. *Inside* hard, like maybe if he *isn't* hurting in his jock right now, he will be *soon*. And -- 

Roy can work with that. He -- 

His heart is fucking *pounding*, but he can step closer, and a little closer than that, and he can look up into Bruce's eyes -- "Please." 

And Bruce is looking down into *his* eyes, and his nostrils are flaring like maybe Clark taught him how to *smell* it when someone wants -- 

Needs -- 

"Do you understand what you're asking for." 

Roy's knees want to be back on the stone so *bad* -- "Yes." 

"Do you understand what you'll *get*." 

"*Please* --" 

"Yes. Or. *No*." 

"*Yes*, Bruce, please --" 

"Upstairs," Bruce says, and steps *back*, and that's so confusing Roy winds up standing there *staring* -- 

Just -- what? 

But *Bruce* looks confused and maybe a little *worried*, and Roy totally speaks English, too. 

"I -- sorry," he says, and walks for the stairs *quickly* --

But Bruce is right there *gripping* Roy's shoulder and holding him *still* -- 

"Please, Bruce, I just -- I thought..." 

"*What* did you think?" 

"That." And the urge to hug himself is huge and fucking *inconvenient* -- 

Bruce doesn't *want* that. Roy doesn't know *what* Bruce wants, yet, but he's got a few ideas about what *won't* work -- 

"I just -- I just needed --" Roy shakes his head and smiles up at Bruce ruefully. "I wasn't expecting... upstairs."

Another nostril-flare. "Did you want the Batman?" 

That -- Roy laughs. "Doesn't *everyone*?" 

Bruce -- the *Batman* shows his teeth. "Then *strip*." 

"Oh fuck. Uh. Uh." 

"*Now*, boy!" 

And the thing is -- 

Roy is human. *More* human than Bruce is, because that voice -- 

That *look* -- 

It's *more* than enough to get his hands to his belt, even though a part of him -- a *lot* of him -- wanted to be Roy more than Boy. You just -- 

You can't say *no* to this. Or -- *he* can't, and he hates his hands for shaking, and he hates his *body* for shaking -- 

And he doesn't know *what* to feel when the Batman cups the back of his neck and squeezes harder and harder and *harder* -- 

Roy moans and *yanks* at his belt -- 

He still can't get it to *work* -- 

"Listen to me very carefully," Bruce says, and it *is* Bruce, but the Batman is *close* -- 

"I'm. I'm listening --" 

"You don't have to have the Batman right now -- or ever." 

"I --" 

"Shh..." 

Roy whimpers and *hurts*. His hands, his sac, his *cock* -- "Yes, Bruce --" 

"What do you want? Be as specific as you can be." 

"You -- you're gentle."

"When I can be." 

Roy swallows and blushes and just -- "You -- you'd *prefer* to be gentle --" 

"Much of the time. *Not* all the time." 

And Roy's cock twitches hard, hard enough to make Roy *moan* -- 

"You want me to give you pain." 

Roy squeezes his eyes shut -- 

"Open." 

Roy grunts and clenches on absolutely fucking *nothing* -- he opens his eyes. He -- "Yes, Bruce." 

"You... tell me. Who am I to you?" 

And Roy wants to say 'everyone, anyone you *want*,' but -- "Bruce. You're --" He swallows again and blushes -- "Bruce." 

Bruce... sighs. And keeps his grip on the back of Roy's neck with that one hand while he *touches* Roy with the other. Roy's face, Roy's throat, Roy's chest and arms and shaking hands -- 

"Please --" 

"Shh. I didn't know this about you, Roy. I didn't... expect it." 

"I -- no. I'm shutting up." 

"Good boy," Bruce says, and stares *right* into Roy's eyes -- 

So there's no way in *hell* he doesn't see Roy relaxing, opening up, *needing* -- 

Bruce nods and kinda *thumbs* Roy's nipple through his shirt -- 

Roy grunts and *shudders* -- 

"I am going to need you to talk to me, at least somewhat extensively, eventually... but not now," Bruce says, leaning in close -- 

Closer -- 

Roy whimpers and tilts his head up, back, *please* -- 

And the kiss makes his stomach turn over again, makes his cock *flex* behind his jock, makes him want to *apologize* to someone -- 

No, not someone. *Dick*. This is *Dick's* property, Dick's *right* and -- 

Not *no* one else's. Clark's had this -- or something like it -- and so has one other guy. Roy wants to *know*, because the kiss is hard and wet and *good* -- 

The kiss is just -- heating him up all over, making him -- 

Does Dick know who the guy was? 

Does he *suspect*? That would almost have to be worse, almost -- 

But Bruce is fucking Roy's mouth now, slow and confident and *slow* -- 

Roy *shudders* -- 

Bruce pulls back. 

"Please --" 

"Shh. You want pain. What else?" 

Roy groans. "More. Just..." And then Roy's wincing for the feel of Bruce tightening his grip on his neck even more. "Specifics. I... I -- I'm really *easy*, Bruce --" 

"Then give me... guidelines. What *don't* you want?" 

"To bleed. I -- don't think so, anyway --" 

"All right. And?" 

"I don't want you doing *anything* you don't get off on --" 

"It would seem... false?" 

Roy *tries* to nod -- he can't with Bruce's hand there. "Yes. Yes, Bruce." 

"Very well," Bruce says, and *tugs* Roy along -- toward the stairs. Fuck. 

*Fuck* -- no. Roy focuses on walking like he knows *how* -- 

Tries to figure out how hard *Bruce* is -- 

God, is he the kind of dom who holds that back? Can Roy take it if he is? It -- no, he *will* take it, take *everything*, because it's Bruce's hand on him -- 

Bruce's *strength* *guiding* him -- 

Up into the *manor* -- 

And he'll *apologize*, he'll fucking -- no, he'll *convince* Bruce to give it up for Dick, he'll show him -- 

Somehow -- 

Two people. *Just* two, and one of them is freaking *Superman*, and now there's him, and Bruce is still *steering* him -- 

Roy knows where he's *going* -- 

But he has to admit that *without* Bruce's hand right there he'd just be on his knees again, uncomfortable stone steps or not -- 

He wants -- 

"I want. I want to know. Something," Roy says, and shivers when Bruce looks at him -- 

Just *looks* at him -- 

"Or I'll just shut right up again -- " 

"When you're being dominated... how *much* control do you desire?" 

"Uh. A lot? A lot. Please, just -- I can be quiet --" 

"But there are things you need to know." 

Roy moans -- 

Moans *more* when Bruce opens the clock, pushes Roy through, and *closes* the clock behind them -- 

He has to answer. He -- "Yes. I'm sorry." 

"Shh. You have done nothing deserving of punishment." 

Okay, that's good to know -- 

"Ask your questions, Roy," Bruce says, and leads them to the main stairs -- 

"What happens if Alfred sees this?" 

Bruce smiles *sharply*. "I tell him that I wish to be left alone for two to three hours --" 

"Oh fuck --" 

"And then I inform him that you will be staying for dinner." 

"Oh. I. You want --" 

"I strongly suspect, however, that he already knows that I have... a guest." 

Roy swallows -- 

Stumbles on the carpeting -- 

And then Bruce is reaching across himself and gripping Roy's forearm in his free hand. Steadying him. Just -- 

"I have no intention of... using you, Roy." 

"I want -- I want to be used --" 

"You cannot have that," Bruce says, and starts leading them up the stairs at a brisk jog -- 

Every small jar makes Roy's cock feel heavier, *needier* -- 

"Are there more questions?" 

"Will -- you let me get you off?" 

"Yes. Perhaps more than once -- no. Almost certainly more than once." 

Roy grunts and -- "I'm turning you on." 

The look Bruce gives him is -- yeah. 

Roy snorts and shakes his head. "I -- sorry --" 

"Stop apologizing." 

"Okay --" 

"Unless..." And *this* look is a lot more serious, more *measuring*. Bruce has stopped them in the hall that leads to all the bedrooms in this wing -- 

Roy can *point* to Dick's -- 

Bruce is looking him *over* again -- 

("Well, there are things you can do to help the game *along*, Roy." 

"Yeah? Like what?") 

And Donna had grinned that *wicked* grin which never even *remotely* looks like it fits her face -- 

Except for those times when it does. Like when Roy finds himself on his knees with his wrists behind his back just *begging* to be tied. 

Those times when Donna *doesn't* use the lasso that lets her control people's *will* -- 

Bruce doesn't want him on his knees just *yet*, but -- 

Roy crosses his wrists behind his back and fixes his posture a little, bracing his feet shoulder-width apart. 

Bruce -- hums. "You're a beautiful young man." 

"Not like --" Roy winces and shakes his head. 

Bruce raises that *eyebrow* -- but then he nods once and gestures toward his bedroom. 

Roy walks in and pauses next to the bed -- 

"Take your clothes off, Roy. All of them." 

"Yes, Bruce," Roy says, and begins. But he isn't even *half*-naked before -- 

"I have no intention of spending our time together comparing you to Dick." 

"You -- you pretty much have to --" 

"No, I do not. In case it wasn't clear, I have been attracted to you for some time now," Bruce says, turning a big, expensive-looking chair so that it faces the bed and then sitting down on it. 

And -- "I have more questions --" 

"You may ask three more questions. After that, you will restrain yourself to speaking only when you are spoken to -- and then only when I require a response." 

Roy grunts and nearly trips over his tights as he pulls them down -- no, he's got this, he can handle this -- 

"You have... two minutes to ask your questions." 

"Oh, God. I -- uh." Roy swallows and stares at Bruce, who is sitting with his legs crossed loosely enough that Roy *should* be able to see -- well. "Will you strip?" 

"Eventually. Next?" 

Roy pants and gets the rest of his clothes off *quickly*, then stands up straight with his wrists behind his back again. He feels a little ridiculous with his cock this hard -- and getting *harder* -- 

But that only lasts until Bruce looks him over again. Just -- 

Fuck -- 

"One minute, five seconds." 

*Fuck* -- "I want -- will you let me suck you off?" 

Bruce... thinks about it. That much is *obvious* -- 

"Please --" 

"You may have my penis in your mouth. I haven't decided whether I'll allow you to bring me to orgasm that way." 

"Then will you --" Fuck me. But Roy doesn't know if he wants that to be his last question or *not* -- 

"Twenty seconds." 

Roy groans and shudders -- 

*Twitches* -- 

Bruce is *staring* at his cock -- 

Roy can't *think* -- 

"Five seconds." 

Roy groans and shakes his head. "I can't -- I can't." 

"All right," Bruce says, and points to one of the two armoires in the room. "Bottom drawer, on the right." 

"Yes, Bruce," Roy says, walking over and keeping his arms in place until he *has* to move them to open the armoire. Then he drops into a crouch, opens the drawer -- 

And that really is a drawer full of sex toys, some of which look too good *and* too plain not to be homemade -- 

("You don't understand, Roy! Batman can do *anything*!") 

And Dick had said that almost two years ago now, and he'd sounded so young Roy's blood had turned to *ice* water, because what the hell was someone that young doing in *this* life -- 

But it wasn't even an hour and a *half* later that Dick was saving *all* their lives, and that was that. 

And Bruce *is* Batman, and Batman maybe can't do *anything*, but he can do a whole fuck of a *lot* of things -- 

Including laughing so softly and *calmly* that he might as well *not* be hard. 

However hard he is under his jock. Roy wants to *know* -- wait. Wait. Bruce had told him to check the right side of the drawer, and he can *do* that -- 

And pull out soft, sturdy-looking cuffs with soft, sturdy-looking ropes attached to them -- 

"You're curious about the other items." 

"Uh -- yeah." 

"Perhaps I'll tell you about them... another time," Bruce says, and nods to the bed. "Tie yourself. Face down." 

Roy groans -- and fucking well hops to. The cuffs aren't a magical lasso, but they'll damned well do the trick. *He* isn't an escape artist unless he has accessories -- which he absolutely doesn't right now. 

Roy ties his ankles to the posts at the foot, sets the right cuff down, ties his left wrist, wonders if there's some way Dick could find to do the whole job himself, smacks himself around for being an idiot -- 

And then the space between his shoulder blades starts to crawl *just* like someone big and scary and dangerous is staring at him. He -- 

Roy lets himself squirm a little -- 

"Be still." 

Roy doesn't let himself squirm. He *pants*, and sweats, and wonders, and *wants* -- 

And then Bruce just *is* tying Roy's right wrist to the last post -- 

And staring down at him -- 

*Into* him -- 

Bruce doesn't like closed eyes, so Roy keeps his open -- 

"How do you feel, Roy?" 

"A little. A little panicked. On top of being turned-on, I mean." 

Bruce nods thoughtfully -- and straddles Roy's hips before starting to massage him just -- expertly. 

Of *course* he's as good at this as Dick is. 

Of *course* his hands are huge and warm and tempting -- 

Roy moans for it and forces himself to relax, to just go with it until his breathing is even and every part of him is ready to go with *whatever* Bruce wants. 

Especially since the massage stops being clinical and starts being as pervy as one of *Roy's* massages. Just -- 

He can't stop being aware of the fact that he has *skin*, and that it's sensitive, and that it's being *touched* -- 

By *Bruce* -- 

And yeah, Roy's moaning for it more and more -- 

Rocking his hips -- 

"Be still," Bruce says, and rests one hand on Roy's left shoulder and the other on the back of his neck. 

He doesn't fucking *need* to squeeze, because Roy's body knows what it'll feel like -- Roy stops rocking. 

"Good boy," and Bruce goes back to rubbing him down, sparing special attention for seemingly *everywhere* Roy was tense -- 

Shifting back to rub Roy's legs and then back up to his arms again -- 

And his ass -- 

And his calves -- 

And his fingers -- 

And Roy has just enough time to think to himself 'well, he *did* say two to three hours,' before Bruce is pulling Roy's tackle back between his legs -- and tying on a cock ring. Roy *grunts* -- 

"You can take this. Can't you?" 

Roy nods -- 

"Answer aloud." 

"Yes, Bruce. I -- I've done it before --" 

"How many times?" 

Roy licks his lips. "I -- twice --" 

"With Wonder Girl?" 

"Yes, Bruce --" 

Bruce hums and rubs the head of Roy's cock just -- 

Over and over -- 

Roy groans and licks his lips -- 

Tries to stay still -- 

"Relax yourself." 

"I -- yes, Bruce," Roy says, and tries to breathe through his cock getting teased -- 

*Fantastically* teased -- 

God, he's leaking -- 

He's getting Bruce's *fingers* sticky -- 

The *Batman's* fingers -- 

"Roy." 

"Sorry!" And Roy goes back to breathing. Just -- breathing. In and out and in again and he's not thinking of that cock -- 

("Well... he's *huge*, Roy." 

"Seriously?" 

"He's. Um. Proportional.") 

And Dick had blushed -- 

And *Roy* had blushed -- 

("How. How proportional are we talking?") 

And Dick had held his *hands* apart -- 

And then made an *open* fist -- 

God, why the hell didn't he *ask* about getting fucked? 

Why hadn't he *begged*? 

"Roy." 

And Roy -- is panting again. Fuck. "I'm sorry, Bruce. I always -- I always get a little crazy when there's a ring. A cock ring, I -- you know what I mean." 

"'Crazy'. Hm. Tell me more." 

"I just -- I know what I'm gonna get. I mean -- I *think* I know --" 

"Yes?" 

"Teased. I -- she teases me. Really just --" Roy swallows and tries to take a *deep* breath -- it doesn't work. "She -- she's gentle. And -- kinda mean." 

"Should I be mean to you, Roy?" 

Roy moans and bites his lip -- 

"No." 

Roy opens his mouth and pants a little more -- and doesn't squirm. "I want. It would be easier. If you hurt me." 

"Easier for you to relax...?" 

Roy closes his eyes and just -- says a *prayer*. But -- "Yeah. I mean. It always is when Donna spanks me. Easier, I mean --" 

"Noted," Bruce says, and starts -- petting him. Stroking him up and down. It's not *quite* massage anymore, but it still feels fantastic. 

*Better* in some ways -- 

"You're enjoying this." 

"Yes, Bruce." 

"Tell me why." 

Roy licks his lips. "I always -- you're feeling me up. You -- you want me," and yeah, Roy's *blushing* -- 

Bruce touches Roy's *cheek* -- "Beautiful. And yes, I desire you. Profoundly." 

"You can -- anything --" 

"Shh. I'm going to hurt you now." 

Roy moans and *grips* the ropes -- no. He focuses and breathes, because he damned well -- 

Blindfold. 

*Blindfold* -- 

Roy shivers and just -- 

It's soft. Smooth. *Black*. It -- 

Who got to use this? Not *Clark*. Who's the other guy? Did someone use this on Bruce? 

Did he like it? Was -- 

And Bruce *taps* the back of Roy's neck, and that's enough -- 

"I'm sorry --" 

"Breathe." 

"Yes. Yes, Bruce --" 

"You've never had this." 

Roy swallows and breathes in -- 

Breathes out -- 

Breathes in -- 

"Good. Tell me." 

"No, Bruce. I haven't." 

"Can you accept it?" 

"*Anything* -- uh." Roy feels himself blushing *hard*, but -- "I. I meant that." 

"It arouses you more." 

"Yes, Bruce. And -- it makes me curious." 

Bruce hums. "I look forward to discussing any number of things with you... after." 

Roy groans and just -- 

Why is *that* making his cock twitch? Why -- 

"Oh... Roy. I believe you'll understand me when I say that my jock has become... excruciating." 

Roy *whimpers* -- 

And Bruce hums again. "Perhaps you'd enjoy... easing my discomfort?" 

"Fuck -- *yes* --" 

"You will. Keep breathing," Bruce says, and moves off the bed -- 

*Away* -- 

Roy shivers -- 

And *shouts* for the first strike of the... cane? No, it's not hard enough for that -- 

And there's another strike on his ass -- 

And one across his shoulders -- 

And another on his *ass* -- 

Roy stays loose and lets out every *noise* -- 

And Bruce pauses. "This... mm. It's a riding crop, made of a rather excellently-grained imitation leather. Clark acquired it for me." 

Roy pictures it and moans *loudly* -- 

"Of course, I can only use it on him effectively when I'm also using my kryptonite... mm. You're leaking more pre-ejaculate. Have you thought about making love with Clark?" 

"Yeah -- I -- I'm *human* --" 

"So you are," Bruce says, and the smile in his voice is so fucking -- 

"*Please* -- I -- no, sorry --" 

"Shh. What would you like to beg for?" 

Roy squeezes his eyes shut behind the blindfold -- no. Not that. Not -- that's not *allowed*, and he can breathe, he can breathe until he can *think* -- 

"Answer." 

"*More*! I -- *please*, more --" 

"More pain?" 

"Everything -- I mean. Yes, more pain -- oh, *fuck* --" And Roy tries to spread his legs wider, because Bruce is touching his cock with the crop -- 

*Rubbing* the *head* -- 

Roy groans and beats his head against the pillow -- 

"Stop that." 

Roy *whines* -- and stops -- 

And Bruce keeps *rubbing* -- 

"Please. Please -- oh, fuck, I'm *sorry* --" 

"No. I've decided that you may beg with impunity." 

Roy feels himself flush all *over*, but -- "Thank you!" 

"You're welcome," Bruce says, and teases the *slit* -- 

Roy whimpers and bites his lip *hard* -- 

"No." 

Roy opens his mouth and a *shout* comes out -- 

"Do you need an orgasm, Roy?" 

*Yes*, but -- "Not -- not yet!" 

Bruce -- catches his breath. "You would like to endure... more?" 

Roy nods and *nods* -- wait. "Yes. Yes, Bruce --" 

Bruce sighs. "You're arousing me... mm. I may not be able to allow you to fellate me for very long before I'll need... other things entirely," and Bruce *stops* teasing him with the crop -- 

"Anything -- I'll do anything --" 

"One moment," and then -- 

Wet sounds. *Sucking* sounds. That -- 

A part of Roy thinks the rest is an *idiot* for not realizing Bruce would lick the crop after all that teasing, but that part is a lot more confident than the rest could ever *be*, and also -- 

Bruce. 

Sucking up his *pre-come*. 

*Bruce* -- 

Roy groans *loudly* -- 

"You taste... strong. Male. You don't eat especially healthily all the time." 

"No, I -- I'm sorry --" 

"I vastly enjoy the taste of you, Roy... but I would feed you a different diet." 

"O-okay. That's fair -- uh. Please. Please whip me more --" 

"Again." 

*Fuck* -- "Please *whip* me more --" 

"*Again*." 

"Please -- please fuck me *up* --" 

Bruce growls -- 

And he's *still* growling when the strike lands across Roy's lower back -- 

When Roy *yells* -- 

And then the strikes keep coming, keep -- 

So hard -- 

So *much*, and Roy is yelling over and over, *forcing* himself to stay loose, stay open just like Bruce *likes* -- 

God, his skin has to look like his fucking *hair* -- 

Bruce just keeps *going* -- 

His arms his thighs his ass -- 

Over and *over* for his ass -- 

It's so hard not to *hump*, even with his cock pulled back between his legs. He needs the motion, the *feel* -- 

"Roy..." 

Bruce isn't *stopping* -- "Yes -- yes, Bruce --" 

"How much more?" 

"I --" Don't know, but that was closer to a *sob* than it was to language -- 

Bruce doesn't *stop* -- 

Roy opens his mouth and sobs again -- 

*Again* -- 

He's shuddering now, panting even though he's *trying* not to -- 

"*Roy*." 

Roy cries out and tries -- *tries* -- 

"You must be fit for the *work*, Roy --" 

"Stop! Then stop!" 

Bruce growls and Roy hears something hitting the *window* -- 

That was Bruce throwing the crop across the *room* -- 

Bruce is crawling onto the bed -- "Roy." 

"Hnh -- nh -- I'm *sorry* --" 

"It occurs to me that you've needed someone to apologize to." 

"I -- what?" 

Bruce hums. "I am not that man. But I can give you many other things," and Bruce licks the back of Roy's neck -- 

"*Please* --" 

"I *will* give you many other things," and he kisses a path down Roy's spine -- 

"Please. Please --" 

"I will..." And Bruce growls and *licks* back up Roy's spine, and somehow that makes all the sweat really obvious -- 

Makes all the sweat *sting* -- 

It feels like his cock is *throbbing* -- 

Roy sobs *again* -- 

And Bruce is still licking him, still -- 

He's just all *over* Roy's back, and Roy's shoulders -- 

He's mouthing Roy's *ass* -- 

*Growling* more -- 

"Yes -- yes, *please* --" 

"'Anything,' you said." 

"Yeah -- yes, Bruce -- *fuck* --" 

Bruce sighs again, and with him holding Roy spread -- 

The feel of warm breath on his *cleft* -- Roy moans and scrubs the sweat off his face with the pillow -- 

The pillow is already *damp* -- 

"Wonder Girl." 

"Y-yeah, Bruce?" 

"Does she... penetrate you this way." 

Roy moans and tries to spread his legs wider. Just -- 

He can *hear* how horny Bruce is -- 

He can almost fucking *taste* -- 

"*Roy*." 

"*Hnh* -- yes, Bruce! She fucks me -- *hard* --" 

"With how large a toy." 

"Seven -- about seven inches --" 

"And the thickness?" 

"Thick. She -- she only brought one toy to the Tower with her --"

"She stretched you." 

"Yes, Bruce --" 

"She." Bruce growls again and -- kisses him. 

Kisses -- "Oh, *fuck* --" 

Kisses him so *hard* -- 

Right fucking *there* -- 

"Please, please --" 

Another *growl*, and the vibration of it makes Roy *yell* again -- 

He's never *had* this -- but. 

"I -- I wanna do this to *Dick*!" 

Bruce *grunts* -- and pulls back. 

"Oh, fuck -- oh, fuck, I'm sorry, I can't shut up --" 

"You *can*. And you will." 

And Roy hears himself making a *high-pitched* noise -- 

His voice hasn't cracked like that for three damned *years* -- 

But he can -- breathe. And he does that. Just -- 

He keeps it *up* -- 

"Good. Good boy," Bruce says, and that wet sound probably means he's licking his lips -- "There may come a day when Dick joins me in this bed --" 

"Oh -- *please*!" 

Bruce pants. "Are you begging me to make love with him?" 

"Yes! He wants you so *much*! We talk about you all the time, he tells me -- he *dreams* about you touching him, talking to him, watching him jerk *off* --" 

"Roy..." But Bruce doesn't say anything else before he's massaging Roy again, making Roy really *feel* all the welts -- 

So hot -- 

God, he's so hot *everywhere* -- 

He can't -- "*Please*!" 

"Is this why you came here? To... plead Dick's case?" 

"Dick doesn't know I'm here --" 

"Just the same." 

"No, I -- I wish --" Roy groans and winces and tries not to fucking *sob* again -- "I'm not that *good* --" 

"You... wanted me for yourself." 

"Something -- I just -- I didn't *know* what I wanted --" 

"*Don't* lie to me." 

Roy freezes -- 

Shudders -- 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's just -- I couldn't *imagine* getting what I wanted. Not -- not unless I was already jerking *off*. I had to be -- I had to be really *horny* just to *picture* anything *like* this -- *nnh* --" 

And Bruce has his hand around Roy's cock -- 

Bruce is *squeezing* -- 

"God, *please* --" 

"More aroused than this?" 

"Yes -- yeah -- oh, God, I just -- I thought you got *lonely* --" 

"Like you." 

Roy -- whimpers. He can't -- 

"*Answer* me." 

"*Yes*! I'm -- I'm lonely all the time --" 

Bruce *growls* again -- "You need -- you need *companionship* --" 

"I need *this*!" 

"Roy --" 

"Please don't stop now, please don't -- oh, God, I'll do anything --" 

"You -- I should -- I should have been more --" 

"Bruce, *please*! I'm begging, I'm begging, I'll do anything, say anything, I *want* you --" 

"I *need* you," Bruce says, and it just -- hangs there. 

The sound of Roy's own panting is *loud* in his ears -- 

Bruce's hand is huge and *hard* around him -- 

Bruce -- 

"Roy... perhaps..." 

"Please. You can --" Roy swallows and shakes his head. "Anything you want. Anything you need. I don't -- I don't *know* if you've ever been on my side of things --" 

"I have." 

"This is so fucking good, Bruce. This -- even if you throw me out after. Even if you never touch me *again* --" 

"I won't -- I *can't* --" 

And Roy hears himself make an *animal* noise. He can't -- 

Just the *idea* of Bruce -- 

Needing this. 

Needing it from *him* -- 

And Roy is flushed all over again -- 

"Roy..." 

"I wanna suck you so *bad*, Bruce -- I mean -- *please* --" 

"Is that the only thing you want?" 

"No! *No*! Please, I. I just wanna be on my knees, wanna *stay* on my knees, give you -- give us *both* what we need --" 

Bruce sighs again. "I need... to be inside you." 

"Oh, *fuck*, yes --" 

"But first... I need to give you an orgasm. Do you -- no. I can't... give you choices --" 

Roy grunts and *bucks* -- 

"Be *still*." 

Roy pants and grips the ropes again -- "I'm sorry, Bruce. I'll -- I'll stay right here --" 

"I'll still..." Bruce *groans*. "You can say *no*, Roy." 

No, he fucking *can't* -- 

"Do you *understand*?" 

He understands *everything* now -- or *enough* of everything. It feels so *good* -- "Yes, Bruce. Please. Please get me off -- *nuh* --" 

"The feel of you in my hand... so warm..." And Bruce starts squeezing Roy's cock *rhythmically* -- 

Roy -- breathes through it. Just -- 

Sometimes Donna squeezes so hard it feels like his *eyes* want to fall out of his *head* -- 

That's not this. This is just Bruce *pumping* him, and it's human strength, and human *hardness* -- 

*Roughness* -- 

"Tell me how you would make love with Clark." 

"Uh? I -- I want to suck him, too --" 

"Why?" 

"Because he looks... huge. I just. I like that." 

Bruce starts squeezing *harder* -- 

Roy moans and tries and fails to *spread* more -- 

"You fellate Donna's phallus." 

"Yeah. Yeah -- it's too hard to really --" 

"You... enjoy fellating Dick." 

Roy pants and licks his lips. "Yeah. Even though he's not too -- uh. Yes, Bruce. I... highly recommend it." 

"Even though you're already jealous." 

"Not -- not that kind of jealous. Not -- that's not why." 

"Tell me why." 

Roy blushes and -- blushes harder. 

He doesn't squirm, though -- 

And he doesn't bite his lip -- 

"Will you make me ask you twice --" 

"He's not lonely! Dick. He -- you never make him lonely. He said -- not since the beginning." 

Bruce catches his *breath* -- 

Starts to *stroke* -- 

Roy groans and *yanks* on the ropes -- 

He doesn't *buck* -- 

"Roy..." 

"Yeah -- yes, Bruce?" 

"Would you ever..." But Bruce growls instead of saying anything else -- 

Opens the cuffs on Roy's ankles but *not* his wrists -- 

*Lifts* Roy onto his knees -- 

"Oh -- oh, *yeah* --" 

"You are... so beautiful," Bruce says , and kisses a *quick* path up Roy's spine and down again. "Do you enjoy this position?" 

God -- "Yes, Bruce." 

"I'm going to take you." 

Take -- oh. Oh -- 

"No, Roy. Keep your knees shoulder-width apart." 

He'd tried to spread again -- "Yes, Bruce --" 

"You..." Bruce *rumbles* -- and there are wet sounds. *Slick* sounds -- "Don't be startled by the warmth of the lubricant. It's Kryptonian in origin, but quite safe for humans. Do you understand?" 

Roy moans -- "I -- Dick told me about it." 

"Good," Bruce says, and pushes in with *two* -- 

"*Oh* -- " 

"Have you ever imagined Clark taking you?" 

"N-no --" 

"Why not?" 

"He's so -- I can't -- I mean, I *know* he isn't a prude, but --" 

"He seems that way. Hmm. Yes, I believe I see," Bruce says, and crooks his fingers -- 

"*Ahn* --" 

"He leaves bruises when he takes me, Roy." 

"Nnh -- oh --" 

"He... mm. Leaves me *raw*." 

"Oh, God -- I just -- I pictured --" 

"Gentle care? Solicitousness?" 

"*You*. You -- doing him --" 

"Ah, I see," Bruce says, and starts crooking his fingers again and *again* -- 

"Oh -- oh, *God* --" 

"We... switch. Though we don't make love especially often, as these things go." 

"Hnh -- nuh -- okay --" 

"I often try to... control myself. To keep myself from... burying myself in sexuality. Does that make sense to you?" 

"Uh. Uh. No? I mean -- I'll try --" 

"Don't. You are... far too beautiful in your pleasure." 

Roy blushes again -- 

Remembers that Bruce doesn't *want* him to spread his legs more -- 

That he wants Roy to be *still* -- 

God, he can't shut *up*, and he doesn't *want* to or anything like that, but -- 

Just -- 

He's not a *virgin* -- 

He's used to being a little *subtle* for the sake of everyone *else* in the Tower -- 

Or down the hall in *Ollie's* bedroom -- 

Where *is* Alfred -- 

"You're growing... distracted," and Bruce *stops* -- 

"*No*! Please -- I mean -- I was just -- worried --" 

"About what." 

"Making -- too much noise? Uh. Okay, that sounds *really* dumb, considering --" 

"You were being whipped before," Bruce says, and *claws* down over Roy's back -- 

"*Fuck* --" 

And over Roy's *ass* -- 

"Fuck *fuck* --" 

"Perhaps... perhaps you feel that being taken with my fingers isn't as worthy of your sounds?" 

"I've been -- I've done this. I mean -- I don't know what I mean --" 

Bruce hums. "I do. Give in. Give me *all* of your sounds, because I find them desperately arousing." 

Roy grunts -- "Yes, Bruce." 

"Good boy," and Bruce starts thrusting *hard* -- 

Roy clenches *helplessly* -- 

Shouts -- 

*Rocks* into the thrusts because he needs to, needs to so *bad* -- 

"Did I tell you that you could do that?" 

"*Nuh* -- oh, God, I'm *sorry*," Roy says -- 

But Bruce still slows *down*, still -- 

Roy can't keep himself from *sobbing* -- "Please! Please don't -- don't *tease* --" 

"But you enjoy it so much..." 

Well. He can't actually *deny* that. But -- "Hurts -- it *hurts* --" 

"Here?" And Bruce strokes up the underside of Roy's cock so *lightly* -- 

Roy grunts and *bucks* again -- 

Bruce moves his *hand* -- 

"*Please*! I'm so -- I'm so sorry!" 

"You ache." 

"Yes!" 

"You... mm. You *need* to move." 

"Show -- have to *show* you --" 

"You're showing me everything," Bruce says, and claws Roy's ass again -- 

Roy *shouts* -- 

"You... so generous," and Bruce *spanks* Roy's ass -- 

Roy *shudders* with the need to *move* -- 

Grits his *teeth* -- 

"Let it *out*, Roy!" 

"*Please*! Please, Bruce, let me --" 

"*Move*." 

And Roy does just that, *slamming* himself back onto Bruce's fingers over and over again -- 

Yelling for it until it *stops* hurting, and then -- 

"Please! Please *more*!" 

And Bruce growls and gives him three -- 

Bruce *grips* Roy's hip and forces him to only move the way *he* wants Roy to move -- 

So fucking *strong* -- and it feels good, feels *fantastic*, feels like every fantasy about Ollie's huge fucking arms and how he could *use* them if he ever fucking *wanted* to -- 

Bruce has his own. 

Bruce has *him* -- 

Bruce is opening him *up*, and Roy can't do anything but yell and gasp and yell *more* -- 

Beg with the way he's *moving* -- 

The clench of his ass and the way it makes him see *stars* -- 

Bruce's fingers are so *big*, bigger than anything he's -- 

"*Hurts* --" 

"*Take* it --" 

And Roy screams -- 

Feels himself *spasm* -- 

Bruce *growls* and Roy spasms again, flexes and needs and -- 

"Need -- I'm *close* --" 

"I *know*," Bruce says, and crooks all *three* of his fingers -- 

Roy screams *again* -- 

Bruce *yanks* off the cock ring -- 

And Roy's vision blanks. Just -- everything gone. He can't see the black of the blindfold --

He can't see the little bit of light from near his nose -- 

He can't *hear* -- but that's just because he's screaming -- 

Screaming and shoving back and *begging*, please let Bruce hear him begging -- 

*Feel* him begging -- 

"Roy. *Come*." 

And the black comes *back* -- 

And he goes *rigid* everywhere except his flexing cock -- 

He's screamed out all his *air*, and that means it *hurts* to try to scream again, hurts to need, hurts to come -- 

So -- 

*Hard* -- 

Shooting off like it's the *first* time and all he can do is *wheeze* -- 

Until Bruce *slaps* his ass and Roy gasps for it -- 

And screams -- 

And *screams* -- 

And shoots off *again* -- 

God, fuck, he can't stop *clenching* -- 

Bruce is fucking him *anyway* -- 

And Roy's brain gives him about two seconds to *just* be blown right the fuck out before he can *feel* what it'll be like to have Bruce's cock slide right in -- 

*Shove* right in -- 

"*NNH* --" 

"Good... good boy," Bruce says, and *stops* thrusting -- 

And pets him all over with his free hand. Just -- all over. 

Roy whimpers like a *bitch* when those fingers ghost over the head of his cock -- 

And whimpers again once he can hear Bruce *sucking* his fingers. Just -- 

There is no way in hell he's going to recover from this. Just -- no fucking way. 

He'll worry about that later.


	3. It's time to make some room. *koff*

The boy in his bed -- 

There is a part of him which only wants to shout that it's the *wrong* boy -- 

That part has been in shock since Bruce picked up the riding crop -- or. Possibly before. 

The boy in his bed is Roy Harper. 

He has admitted to loneliness -- and it's apparently terrible enough, at times, to make him weep. He is jealous of *Bruce's* relationship with Dick, despite the fact that he knows -- *must* know -- all of the many ways Bruce has failed to be anything like a *proper* partner to Dick over the past two years. He is -- 

He is panting, and shivering, and moaning *quietly*. 

He is flushed red and welted *more* red -- because of Bruce. 

Because of what he's *done*. 

Because of what he wants to do -- again and again. 

That moan wasn't Roy's, at all -- 

And Roy stiffens -- and then relaxes and adjusts his position perfectly. His left cheek is pressed to the pillow. His arms are spread to the posts. His back has a perfect incline. His legs are spread to the *correct* width. His buttocks are -- 

Are -- 

Bruce strokes Roy there, testing at the welts which *will* fade within a day or two unless Roy's skin is much more sensitive than it seems -- 

The welts will fade, and there will be nothing left to show this. To *prove* this -- 

This perfect moment -- 

He is not the wrong boy. He *couldn't* be -- 

Bruce subvocalizes thanks to Clark, but then he -- wonders. Should Roy be told more clearly of Clark's interest? There have been *misunderstandings*, and -- 

No. It would be... incorrect to foster *more* misunderstandings. It would not be... worthy. 

Bruce licks his dry lips for the taste of Roy's salt -- there, at the right corner of his lower lip. A hint. A *tease*. "Roy..." 

Roy shivers. "Yes. Yes, Bruce." 

"Clark..." Bruce swallows and fights back the *surge* of jealousy -- 

He should have *predicted* -- 

But he can be better than this. He can -- Dick still desires human lovers even though he's had -- and continues *to* have -- lovers with superpowers. And Roy... 

Roy is waiting so *patiently* -- 

"Breathe," Bruce says, and waits -- 

And waits -- 

And pulls out slowly and carefully, shivering for Roy's whimper, Roy's *obvious* desire -- "Soon," Bruce promises, and leans in to kiss the back of Roy's neck before moving to acquire a disinfectant wipe for his fingers -- 

"Yes, Bruce." 

Bruce cleans his hand as thoroughly as he can without leaving the bed -- 

He *can't* leave the bed -- 

He *needs* -- 

He needs more, and so he opens Roy's restraints and pulls him up into a kneeling position, turns him until they're face to face once more, then indulges himself by stroking him more, by gathering the semen on Roy's chest and abdomen and tasting, licking -- 

He kisses Roy -- 

Roy stiffens and moans and *opens*, and it's all so fast, so wonderfully -- 

Bruce cups Roy's cheek with one hand and *grips* Roy's hair with the other -- 

And they are close enough that Bruce can feel the *hungry* spasm of Roy's penis, the burgeoning of *fresh* desire. Bruce kisses Roy more deeply, tilts his head back and bites his lips -- 

His chin -- 

He *kisses* Roy, and takes his moans, his shivers, his abortive attempts to press closer -- no. Bruce pulls back and lifts Roy into a straddle of his thighs -- 

"Oh -- God --" 

"Shh," Bruce says, and it feels so warm, so strange and prickling and *needful*, to wrap his arms around Roy and hold on, to hug him and *rock* him as Roy shivers more and more -- 

As Roy clutches at Bruce's t-shirt and whimpers again -- 

Again -- 

And Bruce remembers what he'd needed of Clark -- of *Kal* -- that first time. Roy's personality can't possibly be *much* like Bruce's own in this sense, but, perhaps... "You are mine in this moment, Roy," Bruce says, and keeps his voice steady, *even* -- 

"Hnh -- yes. Yes, Bruce." 

Bruce nods and kisses Roy's temple, kisses his eyes *gently* through the soft blindfold. "I will have what I wish of you." 

"Please. Please do --" 

Bruce growls because he *must* -- 

"*Ohn* --" And Roy... rubs his body against Bruce's. Presses closer still and rubs, offers -- 

Tilts his head back and offers his *throat* -- 

Bruce tightens his grip on Roy's hair and *bites* his throat -- 

"God -- *God* --" 

Bruce growls again and *sucks* -- 

"*Yes*, *please* --" 

\-- but only briefly. "I will have everything -- *everything* -- I *need* of you." 

Roy tugs against Bruce's grip -- no, he's trying to nod. 

Bruce shows his *teeth* -- "*Aloud*." 

"Nn -- I'm sorry! Please, do what you need, take what you need --" 

"You want me to." 

"I need it! I need -- you feel so *good*!" 

And Bruce -- needs. He tugs off the blindfold and gives himself Roy's wide eyes, his *dazed* eyes -- 

He is blinking too much, but that will not last. This bedroom is never particularly bright, and -- 

There. Roy is staring up at him expectantly, hungrily -- 

"I need you," Bruce says, and spares a moment to be shocked that the words came out so clearly, so *humanly* -- 

But then he has to kiss Roy again, and wrap his free arm around Roy's waist -- 

Pull him close and *hold* him there -- 

Hold him while he *moans* -- 

While they *both* do, and Bruce is aware that he's kissing Roy harder, that he will undoubtedly make Roy's lips swell -- 

But Roy is shuddering against him so beautifully, working his hips -- 

Is he even aware that he's doing so? Bruce strokes down and *grips* Roy's hip, tugging him out of the kiss with his other hand -- 

And Roy looks dazed again, looks -- 

"You are... willing." 

Roy groans and tries to nod -- "Sorry, yes, Bruce. Yes, I -- anything. You can -- I won't say no --" 

"Shh. There is..." Bruce licks his lips --

Roy stares at his mouth -- 

And Bruce has to kiss him again, has to *urge* him to work his hips -- 

Roy cries out into Bruce's mouth and *thrusts* against him, undoubtedly staining Bruce's workout clothes -- 

A part of Bruce can only imagine sniffing them after this, breathing *in* -- 

Bruce bites Roy's lip again -- 

Roy *shouts* -- 

And Bruce pulls back slowly. "There can be pleasure in denial, Roy. Do you understand?" 

Roy looks *confused* for a long moment -- and then blinks and smiles, sunny and loose. "I get off on you saying 'no' to me. Like that?" 

Bruce inclines his head and smiles. "I would also enjoy you saying 'no' to me -- or using other denials -- if there was an understanding between us that I would continue my actions just the same. Do you understand that?" 

Roy's sound is -- animal-rough. *Loud*. 

"I see that you do. Do you *agree*?" 

"Uh. Uh. No? By which I mean *yes*, fuck --" 

Bruce kisses him again, again -- 

Roy moans and shakes his head *hesitantly* -- 

And cries out when Bruce kisses him harder. Cries out and *thrusts* -- 

"Beautiful boy. Beautiful..." Bruce inhales sharply and lifts Roy off his thighs -- 

"*Oh* --" 

"On your back." 

"Yes, Bruce --" 

"*Now*." 

And Roy drops himself neatly, beautifully -- 

Spreads his legs and arms -- 

Yes. 

Bruce ties Roy's wrists again, then adjusts the ropes on the ankle cuffs so that he can restrain Roy with his knees pulled back -- nearly -- to his chest. Roy is not as flexible as -- 

But Dick is not here in this moment -- 

But Roy *wants* him to be here -- oh. 

Bruce kisses the glans of Roy's penis softly -- 

"*Ah*!" 

"Roy..." 

"Y-yes, Bruce?" 

Bruce licks his lips again and stares -- no, he stares into Roy's eyes -- 

Roy *jerks* -- hm. 

"For the look in my eyes, beautiful boy?" 

A blush *under* his flush -- "Yes, Bruce. You. You look really *hungry*." 

Bruce smiles. "You make me *ache*." 

Roy makes a sharp, high-pitched noise -- 

Blushes more deeply -- 

Seems to *start* to squeeze his eyes shut -- he stops himself with admirable speed, and shudders, all over. He... 

"Are you... cold?" 

"No, Bruce." 

"Do you need anything to make you more comfortable?" 

"No -- uh. You on top of me? A lot?" 

Bruce laughs quietly and taps the meatus of Roy's penis lightly, rapidly -- 

"Unh -- *unh* --" 

"Perhaps you can have that later." 

"Thank -- thank you, Bruce --" 

"Would you ever share Dick with me?" 

Roy arches and *tries* to thrust -- but all he can do in this restraint configuration is rock. 

"Shall I take that as a yes...?" 

"*Yes*! Oh -- oh, God, I -- I've had that fantasy --" 

"Tell me about it," Bruce says, and licks up the underside of Roy's penis -- 

"Oh, *God* -- uh -- you -- *please* --" 

Bruce licks again -- 

Again -- 

"*Speak*." 

"*Hnh* -- we're here! Only -- it's the Cave -- oh, fuck, your *tongue* --" 

"Where in the Cave," and Bruce licks more slowly, more *wetly* -- 

Roy groans -- "Uh -- the pommel horse. I..." 

Bruce's penis twitches behind the jock, and the *flare* of pain is sudden -- but not shocking. He can endure. He *will* endure, because the alternative is losing control far too quickly. He nips Roy's scrotum to test -- 

Roy shouts and shudders -- "Yes --! I -- I -- you bend him over --" 

"Do I." 

"*Yes* -- please --" 

"More," Bruce says, and wraps his fist around Roy's penis tightly -- 

"Oh, *God* -- you *do* him, you -- you give him your fingers, and you pet him, you tell him -- you tell him how much you love him --" 

Bruce growls and squeezes *hard* -- 

Roy *shouts* again -- "Please, I --" 

"*More*. Tell me how Dick *reacts* in your fantasy." 

"He's -- he's fucking stoned on it, losing it and -- and clawing at the horse --" 

"Flushed?" 

"Yeah -- I can -- we can smell his *sweat* --" 

"Are you erect for him?" And Bruce squeezes again -- 

"*Please*! Yes! Yes, Bruce!" 

"Do you... mm. You take his mouth." 

But for a long moment, Roy only grunts, loud and rhythmically -- 

And Bruce realizes that he's *pumping* Roy's penis, that he is -- 

Bruce growls. "You like this." 

"So -- so *much* --" 

"Tell me the *fantasy*, Roy." 

"Unh -- *unh* -- I fuck. I fuck his mouth --" 

"Hard?" 

"I hold his *hair* --" 

"Should I do that to you?" 

And Roy screams and arches once more, rocks and -- he's close again. So *soon* -- 

Bruce ties the cock ring on again -- 

"Thank you!" There are tears in Roy's eyes. He is so... 

Bruce shakes his head -- 

Roy *sobs* -- 

And Bruce can't stop himself from reaching out to grip Roy's throat, from *squeezing* -- "Your need could never outstrip my *own*, beautiful boy." 

Wide eyes -- 

*Shocked* eyes -- 

And this is less a smile than a poorly-committed *snarl*, but -- 

"You'll know everything when I take you, Roy. I promise you." 

If anything, Roy's eyes grow wider, and the ache within Bruce feels like something living, something beyond petty conceptions of *control* -- 

( _{The only control is that which I take from you, my companion.}_

_{I *beg*!}_

_{Beautifully...}_ ) 

And the whip-cane had wrapped itself around and *around* Bruce's scrotum -- 

And the bite of it had blinded him -- 

The *heat* of it had... left him feeling not entirely dissimilar to how he feels right now with the taste of Roy's ejaculate and pre-ejaculate in his mouth, the sight of him spread and tied and *available*, the feel of his strong *throat* -- 

Bruce squeezes *harder* -- 

And Roy shudders and goes limp even as his penis twitches violently. 

"You've wanted... a certain amount of strength used with you." 

Roy closes his eyes -- opens them again and mouths 'yes, Bruce' instead of trying to nod. 

"You've wanted to be... manhandled?" 

'Yes, Bruce.' 

Bruce nods thoughtfully -- but not too thoughtfully. There are things he does not wish to know about Roy's relationship with Oliver -- 

There are things he already knows which he does not wish to *face*, because if he does -- 

*When* he does... 

But he is saved -- if it could be termed that -- by the brick undertones to Roy's flush. He needs to breathe now, and so Bruce allows it -- 

Though watching Roy struggle *viciously* to breathe only evenly, only correctly -- 

The *need* -- 

"I'm going to hurt you more now, Roy. Do you understand?" 

"*Hnh* -- yes, Bruce." 

"You'll be able to watch... to a certain extent. You'll find that familiar, even if nothing else seems so." 

"Yes, Bruce." 

"You may -- and should -- feel free to beg me to stop." 

And the flush which had been fading *floods* back -- 

Roy's lips are parted -- 

Bruce *needs* -- but. "If and when you feel that the pain will be too great to allow you to patrol should you be needed, use the word 'patrol.' Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Bruce," Roy says, but there is *frustration* in Roy's eyes -- 

"Beautiful boy. You don't wish me to stop even at that point?" 

Roy swallows. "Only. Only if *you* want to stop then." 

Bruce -- *pants*. "I will want to, Roy." 

"Yes, Bruce --" 

"I'll want to... because I'll need other things. *More* things," Bruce says, pinching the head of Roy's penis gently and firmly between his fingers -- 

"*Mmph* --" 

Bruce *slaps* Roy's penis -- 

"Ah, *fuck* --" 

"Wonder Girl...?" 

"*Yes*, Bruce!" 

Bruce nods. "I grow more fond of her by the moment," and he slaps Roy's penis again -- 

"Nnh --" 

"And more jealous of her, of course," and Bruce slaps four times quickly -- 

"*Please*!" 

"Do you understand that?" 

"N-no -- I'm sorry --" 

"Shh," Bruce says, and strokes Roy's penis roughly, *heavily* -- 

Roy whines and *rocks* -- 

"Good boy. Beautiful -- mm." Bruce stops and squeezes again. "Did *she* know of your desire for me?" 

"Yes, Bruce, she -- she made me tell her about everyone -- everyone I wanted like this --" 

"Who else is there?" 

"I -- Diana. And." And Roy winces in obvious pain, obvious *hurt* -- 

There is only so much ignorance Bruce can allow *himself* -- but. "I don't require that pain from you at this time. I rescind the question." 

Wide eyes -- 

*Gratitude* -- 

And Bruce can force his growl *quiet*, but he can't repress it entirely. "You are beautiful, Roy. Beautiful, and mature, and loving..." Bruce licks his lips. "Tell me you wish more pain." 

"*Nnh* -- please, more, I --" But the rest of that is a scream as Bruce spanks Roy's scrotum -- 

Again and again -- 

And again -- 

"I didn't know I needed you, Roy..." 

"*Bruce* -- *ahn* --" 

Bruce strokes Roy's penis *while* continuing to spank his scrotum. 

"Fuck fuck -- oh, *fuck*, Bruce, *please* --" 

"I didn't know you could give... so very much," Bruce says, and gives himself over to studying Roy. The shine of sweat on his skin; the sparse, dark-red hair on his chest; the thicker hair below his navel -- 

No, the sweat above his upper lip -- 

His reddening genitals -- 

His nipples -- large for a teenaged boy and perfectly erect -- 

His expressions, passionate and tortured at once -- and how they do and don't seem to match the noises he's making. Bruce continues to stroke, continues to -- 

"Please! Please *stop*!" 

Bruce sighs and slows *down* -- but only for a moment. "No," Bruce says, and grips Roy's penis when it twitches -- 

Squeezes *hard* as Roy shouts -- 

"Will you beg more, beautiful boy?" 

Roy squeezes his eyes shut -- and opens them again. They are filled with pleading and *question*. 

"Your begging is always arousing," Bruce says, and starts massaging the glans of Roy's penis with his thumb -- 

"Oh, God -- oh, *God* --" 

He never stops spanking Roy's scrotum with his other hand -- 

"*Please*!" 

He speeds *up* again -- 

"Please, please, oh -- oh, *please* --" 

"You don't know, yet, how much I long to *bury* myself in you." 

"You -- you *can* --" 

"I know, and I will. But I also long for this," and Bruce stops spanking to nibble Roy's scrotum, and suck, and scrape his teeth -- 

The noise Roy makes is *strangled* -- 

"You are... a very good boy," and Bruce licks Roy's sweat from his lips -- 

Shudders and *dreams* -- 

"I have... something of a dilemma, Roy." 

"Nn? You -- please, I'll *fix* it --" 

"Shh," Bruce says, and sucks the glans of Roy's penis *hard* -- 

Roy sobs -- 

Just as he had done for the whipping -- 

So *sweetly* -- 

But Bruce was saying something. He releases Roy's scrotum -- 

Eases his grip on Roy's penis and pulls back -- 

Roy sobs *again* and tosses his *head* -- 

"Come back to me, beautiful boy." 

"I -- I -- please --" 

"I *need* you." 

And Roy gasps and tenses -- and stares up at him with perfect focus, perfect -- 

Bruce growls and covers him, kisses his mouth as hard as he had sucked his penis -- 

Roy's moans are so *desperate*, so -- 

So *sweet*, yes, and it feels as though there is a *hot* wire in Bruce's mind, as though there is something which could burn him in an instant, a -- a *flash* -- 

But Bruce must kiss Roy more, and *more* -- 

Must grip his hair with one hand, and pinch and tease his nipple with the other -- no. Roy needs more *pain*, and so Bruce *twists* -- 

And Roy screams into his mouth -- 

Over and *over* as Bruce *thrusts* against Roy's penis, wishing for shorts made of a less forgiving material -- 

Are they rough enough on Roy's genitals? 

Is the torture *correct*? 

But now Roy is tossing his head helplessly, *trying* to return Bruce's kisses only to toss his head again, whimper and -- "Please *stop* --" 

"*No*." 

"*HNH*!" 

And Bruce doesn't need Clark's senses to know that would've been an orgasm, that -- 

Roy is so *close*, and Bruce wants more -- 

So much more -- 

Bruce growls and yanks Roy's head back -- 

Bites a *vicious* collar across Roy's throat as he gurgles and *spasms* -- 

"Beautiful. So *beautiful*, and I... come *back*," Bruce says, and forces Roy to face him -- oh... "You're having trouble focusing." 

"Nuh. Nuh. I'm sorry --" 

"Shh. My dilemma is this, beautiful boy: I long to watch you making love with everyone you desire, but I am aware of my weaknesses. My *hungers*," and Bruce can't keep himself from *snarling*. "I want to *steal* you, Roy. I want to *keep* you --" 

"Oh, fuck, oh *God* -- *ahn* --" 

"Your body is... attempting to achieve orgasm?" 

"*Yes*!" 

"That is extremely... moving, not flattering. Flattery is meaningless; unlike this," and Bruce kisses his way down Roy's chest while Roy moans -- 

Shudders and tugs -- not yanks -- against the restraints -- 

Moans so *much* -- 

And cries out when Bruce darts back up to bite his right nipple, and then his left -- 

Again when Bruce *sucks* -- but. 

"Roy..." 

Roy moans and whimpers, stares and *tries* to focus -- 

It's so *clear* -- 

"Your taste is on my lips again, and I... it's maddening. I want so much more." 

Roy groans -- "You can *have* it! *Anything*!" 

"Beautiful boy, I am jealous of your time, of the pleasure you have given to others." 

And Roy's expression is shocked, *confused* again -- 

Bruce smiles ruefully. "I have been lonely. I have been... hurt. And hungry. I have ached to hold someone within my grasp and *bite*." 

"Your -- Dick needs --" 

"But you need me, too. Don't you." 

"Yes! Fuck, *yes*!" 

Bruce licks Roy's penis all over -- 

All *over* -- 

Roy *groans* -- 

"Will you come to me again?" 

"Unh? I -- yeah, please, whenever --" 

"Whenever I want you?" 

"*Please* -- I mean -- I mean yeah. Yes. Yes, Bruce." 

And if I want you every day -- no. No, not that. He shouldn't -- 

But he can *feel* Clark looking at him, feel him *urging* -- 

Bruce licks his lips again -- no. He suckles Roy's penis while *pumping* his scrotum -- 

"Hnh -- *HNH* --" 

He *keeps* suckling, and the steady leak of pre-ejaculate -- 

Roy's rough and needy *shudders* -- 

Roy's beautiful *body*, and -- 

Could he do this with Dick? Would Dick ever *desire* this from him -- or from Roy? 

To *watch* that would be -- 

Bruce growls and *swallows* Roy -- 

Roy screams and goes *rigid* -- 

And Bruce uncovers his teeth and *slowly* pulls off -- 

"No! *No*! Oh, God, please *stop*!" 

Bruce shakes his head -- and then has to *steady* Roy's penis in his mouth so that he doesn't cause more pain than he wishes to -- 

Roy is twitching so *much* -- 

"*Bruce*!" 

Off, and Bruce pants, *needs* -- "Will you give me your pleasure, beautiful boy?" 

Roy nods frantically -- 

Visibly remembers -- 

"Yes! Yes, anything!" 

"Are you *ready* for me?" 

Roy groans and shifts, rocks -- he's trying to spread his legs wider even as he groans more -- 

*More* -- 

Bruce growls through a helpless smile. "I believe you're ready *enough*," he says, and *starts* to move off the bed to strip himself bare -- no. He must show Roy his body. He must *loom*. He stands on the bed to do it, instead. He is tense, hungry -- 

His every muscle feels *tight* with the need to spring, to act, to *strike* -- 

To *take*. 

He stretches himself reflexively, feeding himself on the sound of Roy's *crooning* moans, on the way he's *staring* and Bruce's rising, thickening penis. He... 

Bruce retrieves the lubricant from a fold in the sheets and slicks his penis -- and then strokes himself slowly. "Do you want it, beautiful boy?" 

A *deeper* flush -- "*Yes*, Bruce!" 

"Beg." 

"Please! Please fuck me! Please fuck me so -- oh, God, I'm so --" Roy whimpers and shakes his head -- 

"*Beg*." 

"*Please*! I'm -- I'm so *desperate*," Roy says, and laughs painfully, *ruefully* -- 

"Did you think I wasn't?" 

"Nuh -- uh?" 

"Do you think I ache for someone *else* right now?" 

And Roy whimpers once more, but the look in his eyes is sad, hungry, rueful, *aged* -- 

Oliver left him *alone* --

And Bruce knows, in this moment, that he never, ever will if it's at all something he can *avoid*. He -- 

He nods slowly and crawls back onto the bed. "You have been... neglected." 

"No -- please --" 

"*Quiet*." 

Roy *grunts* -- and closes his mouth. 

"You have been *ignored*." 

Roy squeezes his eyes shut -- 

"*Open*." 

Roy whines and does it, *pleads* with his beautiful green eyes -- 

So *much* like Barbara's -- 

Would *she* ever -- no, he is with Roy right now. He is here, in *this* moment, with this beautiful boy... 

This perfect *pleasure* -- 

Bruce grips Roy's hip with one hand and his penis with the other. "You have been taken for *granted*, Roy, and that is something I cannot countenance," and Bruce nudges at Roy's anus -- 

Pushes *just* firmly enough to *begin* to slip in -- 

Roy shouts and shudders *violently* -- 

"*Focus*, Roy!" 

"Yes! Yes, Bruce!" 

"Your value has been *disdained*." 

"Oh -- but -- *please* --" 

"That *ends*, Roy. *Right* now," Bruce says, and pushes in steadily -- *not* slowly. Not -- 

And Roy shouts again -- 

Again and *louder* -- 

Again and *wilder* -- 

He is so *tight*, and a part of Bruce is only running through everything Clark had told him about the lubricant. Roy remains *slick* inside, but could the muscles have tightened again? 

Tightened too *much*? 

He is -- 

He is *hot* inside, and Bruce's body is hungry, Bruce's *penis* is -- 

So deep -- 

So deep *inside* -- 

"*Roy*..." 

But Roy can only yell, only --

He is *gripping* the wrist restraints and yanking -- 

He is shouting and -- 

He is so *tight*, and that low, *needy* moan is Bruce, himself -- 

That -- 

He will not last this time. He will not -- 

*Cannot* -- 

He has taken *no* one since making love to Clark three months ago. The part of him which *bleats* about that hardly being any time, at all -- 

The part of him which demands he have more strength to *fight* this -- 

He doesn't want to. He doesn't -- 

This beautiful *boy*, and Bruce is already thrusting, already *pushing* -- 

"Open your *eyes*, Roy!" 

And Roy does *immediately*, but there is no focus, no *sense* -- 

There are *tears* gathering at the corners of his eyes -- 

His penis is twitching with no rhythm or *reason* -- no, there is every reason, every -- 

"You arouse me so *much*!" 

Roy's shout *stutters* as he arches -- 

His throat is *bruising* -- 

As is his chest -- 

His scrotum -- but it's necessary for Bruce to hold it, to *keep* it in his hand until the sweat of his palm feels more slick, more -- 

"*Roy*." 

"Yes! *Yes*!"

And Bruce feels himself shudder -- 

Feels himself *ache*, and he always forgets how much the feeling rises at times like this, how much the torture builds until he only wishes to *bellow* and *snarl* and *bite*. 

Bruce promises himself a moment for that, time and -- and *presence* -- 

He will -- 

"I want you in every *position*!" 

And Roy jerks and *screams* -- 

Yanks at the restraints -- 

*Rocks* -- 

"*No*," Bruce says, and Roy stills *immediately* -- 

Bruce feels himself flex and *leak* -- 

But it's not quite right, not -- 

He grips *both* of Roy's hips -- 

He angles his thrusts *up* -- 

Roy makes a sound so high-pitched that he sounds *years* younger -- 

And then he makes it again. And -- 

Bruce *blushes* -- 

Should anything feel this perfect? 

Should -- 

He is a *boy* -- 

So beautiful, so -- 

Bruce groans and *pumps* -- 

*Clutches* Roy's lean hips -- 

He doesn't want to look away. 

He doesn't want to *blink* -- 

"So... so *young* --" 

Roy gasps and goes rigid once again -- his body is trying to achieve orgasm. He -- 

Bruce can't let him. Not -- not *yet*. But -- "*Soon*, beautiful boy," Bruce says, and he can't be shocked by the growl of his voice, by the animal *roughness* -- 

Roy slumps and whimpers -- 

*Shakes* more -- 

And it's so right to pull Roy into his thrusts -- 

To hold his body -- 

*Move* his body, so beautiful, so *marked* -- 

Bruce's eyes are *burning* -- but Roy is tossing his head and moaning now, Roy is beyond *words*, and will almost certainly stay that way until Bruce allows him another orgasm -- 

And Bruce blushes again for the knowledge that he can't give that until *he* has an orgasm -- 

But it might as well be a flush. He -- 

He's holding Roy *still* -- 

He's *shoving* in -- 

Harder and -- 

Roy sobs and -- 

Bruce *lifts* Roy's hips and -- 

In. In. *In*, and he always forgets -- but he will not forget this. Not one moment. Not one *second*. His eyes are *burning* -- 

But so is the tightness at the base of his spine, the *clench* of everything within him which wants to *give* -- 

And can do nothing but when Roy throws his head back and *wails*, when the sound *rips* through Bruce's mind until he can only gasp and *jerk* through an orgasm -- 

He can't stop clutching -- 

He can't stop *spasming* -- 

There is so much -- 

*Heat* -- 

And the gasp *becomes* a bellow when Roy opens his eyes and gazes into Bruce's -- 

His eyes are full of *wonder* -- 

And Bruce knows he's clutching hard enough to bruise Roy's hips *badly*, but he can't let go, can't even *ease* his grip until his penis stops twitching -- 

Except that Roy clenches *convulsively* and Bruce thrusts again -- 

*Again* -- 

Roy's expression turns *shocked* -- 

And Bruce can only smile, even though he knows it must look starved and *frightening*, too much like -- 

"B-Batman --" 

"*No*," Bruce says, and *yanks* the cock ring loose -- 

"*Ohn*!" 

"Only... only this. Myself. *You*," and Bruce shakes his head at his incoherence, at the need within him to thrust -- 

And *thrust* -- 

"There is hunger that *sprawls*, beautiful boy. There is... across reason and *identity*..." 

And Roy nods frantically again, stares into him -- 

He's trying to *understand* -- 

"I *need* you," Bruce growls, and *grips* Roy's penis -- 

Roy screams and yanks on the restraints -- 

"Hold on for me, beautiful boy. Hold on until I *say*," and Bruce thrusts faster, shuddering for the slight but *vastly* important increase of *space* within Roy. He is not yet raw enough to tighten again, and that means Bruce can work them *both*, can shove and *ride* -- 

As he growls -- 

As Roy sobs and *leaks* -- and Bruce needs to release Roy's penis, to lick and suck at his own palm, his own fingers -- 

To stare into Roy's *wide* eyes -- 

And Bruce is snarling again, *grinding* now -- "I want to taste you *daily*," Bruce says -- 

And Roy's eyes roll up in his head.


	4. Take what you need.

"*Focus*," Bruce growls, and Roy wants to, needs to so *bad* -- 

Needs to give Bruce anything he fucking *wants* right *now* -- 

But opening his eyes just gives him color and hunger and something so -- 

So -- 

Bruce is *fucking* him, and it's nothing like the fantasies, like *any* fantasy, because he's always has at least a *little* control in his mind. This -- 

He's tied up, sweaty, bruised, *welted*, and full of come. Full of *cock*, because Bruce is *bigger* than Dick had described -- 

Dick has never seen Bruce this hard, never -- 

Never *felt* -- 

"*Roy*." 

Yes, he tries to say, tries to *scream* -- 

He can only see Bruce in *flashes*, only -- 

He's heat and hair and *size* -- 

Scars and muscles and *growls* -- 

Bruce *needs* him to focus, and it should be easy, should -- 

God, he's been looking at things since he was a *baby*. He's *good* at looking at things, *especially* hot things, hot *people* -- 

And the laugh feels like it *jerks* its way out of him, it's cracked and wheezing and -- 

And Bruce's hand is on his throat but *not* squeezing -- 

Bruce is groaning like something is *killing* him -- 

"Beautiful *boy*..." 

Wants to keep him, wants to touch him taste him -- 

"Your -- that you could *laugh*..." 

He's sorry, he's an idiot, he can do *better* -- 

"I've always needed *that*," Bruce says, and -- 

Oh -- 

He's *reaming* Roy now, shoving his way in and making *room* for himself, making -- 

Like he'll *stay* -- 

And God, Roy would do anything, *take* anything -- 

He feels so *good*, and he can't even *tell* Bruce that, can't make any noise that sounds like *language* -- 

"Your -- your *pleasure* --" 

"*Yours*!" And it's so much of a shock to get that out that it *takes* him a minute to realize *what* he'd said -- 

And then he's blushing again, sobbing -- 

"Roy. *Roy*." 

He can't take it back -- 

He doesn't *want* to -- 

He can't freak Bruce out -- 

He can't fuck this *up* -- 

"Say it *again*." 

Oh, fuck. Oh -- "*Nnk* --" 

"But -- but of course you can't *speak* --" And Bruce growls and *claws* his way off Roy's neck -- 

Roy can feel him *flexing* inside -- 

He hasn't slowed *down* -- 

Roy's so *open*, and he can't -- 

"Roy. *Now*!" 

"Yours! Fuck, *yours*!" And his focus comes back just in time to show him Bruce *grinning* down at him -- 

Grinning-snarling-growling -- 

He looks fucking *triumphant*, and Roy's never felt more like a *prize*, like something -- 

Something *wanted* -- "Nnh -- *close*!" And Roy is expecting Bruce to pinch his cock, or slap it, or just yank on his sac -- 

"Then *come*." 

And shock keeps him from doing it right then -- 

*Ridiculous* fear of not getting it *right* -- 

Bruce is fucking him so *hard* -- 

So -- 

"*Give* me your pleasure!" 

That's it, that's all he fucking *has*, because he's *aware* that he's arching and shuddering like an *earthquake*, but mostly he's aware that he can't scream *enough*, that there could never *be* enough screaming for the incredible heat *slamming* through him -- 

The pleasure taking him *higher* -- 

So much *higher*, and he's gotta be coming all *over* Bruce, and a part of him wants to *blush* for that -- 

Wants to give up everything, just *everything* -- 

And maybe this time he just won't *stop* shooting off until he's wrung out and *dry* -- 

"*Beautiful*..." 

And Bruce's voice is so low when he says things like that, so fucking -- fucking *real* -- 

"Not *enough*," and Bruce is jerking him off while he *pounds* him -- 

He doesn't *have* -- 

But then Roy is *whining* because there *was* another jet of come -- 

Bruce is still *stroking*, still -- 

"Please!" 

"Roy..." 

"Please -- please, God, *please*!" 

"What are you begging *for*, Roy?" 

Fuck -- 

*Fuck* -- 

"I -- I don't know!" 

And Bruce *sighs* a laugh that hitches in the middle -- 

Bruce leans *in* -- 

And Roy *knows* that Bruce isn't as deep now that they're kissing, but it doesn't *feel* that way. God, he's being fucked from both ends -- 

He's being taken *over* -- 

He doesn't want it to *stop* -- 

But, God, he needs Bruce to come, needs him to fill him up again, make it right and *real* -- 

Make *him* right -- and so he tries to give the best kiss he can -- 

No, he tries to *take* the best kiss he can, open himself up and suck and lick, offer himself -- 

Bruce hums and kisses him harder, fucks him *faster* - 

God, it *hurts* -- 

So -- 

But Bruce is feeling him up again, stroking and pinching and scratching and then stroking *more*, making Roy's skin feel like something just -- 

Beautiful -- 

And it makes Roy sob again, makes him shake and -- "*Please*!" Oh, he didn't mean to break the *kiss* -- 

But Bruce is just staring at him now, licking his lips as he slams in --

As he grips Roy's shoulders and massages, *pins* -- 

Bruce doesn't *need* the restraints to hold him and just -- 

Roy feels himself wincing with *lust* -- 

Feels himself twitch and start getting *harder* again -- 

Bruce *smiles* at him -- 

And Roy whimpers and moans -- 

Clenches and *yells* -- 

And then *keeps* yelling, because Bruce is just going for it, just *doing* him like there's no fucking *tomorrow*, and it's *possible* that this'll get in the way of him being able to do anything *like* patrol effectively tonight -- 

But Roy can't stop Bruce. Not -- not from *this*. All he can do is stare up into Bruce's eyes and take it, wince and take it, moan and *take* it. And when Bruce strokes Roy's face like it's fragile and wonderful -- 

Roy doesn't even *try* to stop himself from sucking Bruce's thumb into his mouth and just going to town on it, going *down* on it -- 

"*Nnh* -- *Roy* --" 

Showing -- showing what he can *do* -- 

"I. I *need* you -- *nnh* --" 

I need you right back, Bruce, I need you and I'll do anything, fucking *anything* -- 

Just -- 

Just don't *stop* -- 

And Roy sucks *hard*, letting his eyes fall most of the way closed -- 

And Bruce shouts and *stops* -- 

And then everything is silence and *breath*, because Bruce is coming in him again just right, just -- 

Oh, God, it's never this *good* -- 

How the fuck is he supposed to live *without* it -- no, no, he's not thinking about that now, he's not -- 

Right now, he's just going to watch Bruce shudder and *seize* over him like it's never been this good for *him* -- 

He's going to listen to his ass -- and all kinds of other parts -- twinge and *buzz* for this. 

He's going to *suck* Bruce's thumb and beg with everything *silent* in him -- 

"God, *please* --" *Fuck* -- 

And the only thing he can say about that was that it was *slurred* -- 

But Bruce's look is burning him *up* -- 

Bruce is already *focused* again -- 

Roy whimpers around Bruce's thumb and -- no. Eyes open. Show him -- 

Show him *enough* of everything, because he's good, and careful -- 

Dick is never *lonely* -- 

Bruce won't hurt him *badly* when he needs Roy to go -- 

He'd said he wanted Roy to stay for *dinner* -- 

Oh, God, what the hell is he supposed to say when -- 

Bruce tugs his thumb out of Roy's mouth. He -- 

Roy whines -- "Oh -- fuck --" 

"Tell me what you need, Roy." 

You. More. *You* -- Roy swallows and shakes his head -- 

And Bruce *grips* his chin. "No. Tell me." 

"I don't -- know --" 

"No. You will not lie to me." 

*Fuck* -- 

God, that was a *whimper* -- 

What the hell is he supposed to -- 

"Beautiful boy. Give me this." 

And that -- was a moan. Okay. Okay. "I -- I don't want to freak you out --" 

And Bruce raises an *eyebrow* at him just like they *aren't* both naked and covered in *come* -- 

Fucking *Christ* -- but --

"Roy." 

He has a point. He -- "I want you," Roy blurts, and wonders if he can get *away* with -- 

"What. Do you need." 

Roy winces again. "I don't -- you don't need --" 

"Answer me, or I will not give you another orgasm." 

And his cock is fucking *predictably* panicked for that -- but. "I -- I'll live with that --" 

Bruce grunts and bites Roy's lip *hard* -- 

"*Unh* --" 

And then pulls back. "*Give* me this!" 

*Fuck* -- he has to -- "I need you, okay? I need you -- I'll do anything just to -- I don't want to freak you *out*!" 

Bruce -- pants. And licks his lips. "You'll do anything just to... what?" 

"Keep -- keep this -- I'm *sorry* --" 

"Shh. You'll come to me again."

"Yes! I -- I said --" 

"You will..." Bruce's breathing is rough, *heavy* -- 

He's *staring* *into* Roy --

"Perhaps you'll stay with me." 

Roy *shouts* -- and blushes, because that wasn't even for a clench -- 

"*Say* it." 

"I'll stay! I'll stay, however long you want, you can -- but I have to --" 

Bruce covers Roy's mouth and presses -- firmly. *Not* hard. "Think very carefully about what you want -- what you *need*. And do so with the understanding that *I* need to *give* it to you." 

Roy -- grunts -- 

And Bruce licks his lips. "You make me hungry, Roy. And then you sate me. You... I've needed you." 

God -- 

*God* -- no. 

Roy shakes his head -- 

Bruce narrows his *eyes* -- and moves his hand. "Tell me what it is. Tell me what's *stopping* you." 

"*Dick*. You want *him*. You -- you're in love with him. Aren't you?" 

And Bruce... smiles. It's wry, and dark, and really fucking *hot* -- 

"I... Bruce?" 

Bruce *laughs* -- and hums. "Beautiful boy. I'm still in love with the *first* man I fell for... when we were both boys of fourteen. There is little I wouldn't do for him... all other things being equal. As Clark is irritatingly fond of informing me, I am... a loving sort of man. Do you understand?" 

He wants to -- 

He thinks -- 

He wants to fucking *believe* -- "Who. Who is --" 

"Harvey Dent." 

And Roy's stomach just -- drops. "Uh." 

"All other things... are very much not equal," Bruce says, and smiles *ruefully*. "I didn't fall for Lex Luthor until I was nearly seventeen --" 

"Oh my fucking God -- uh. Uh." 

"When we made love -- something Harvey and I never did -- it was... explosive." And Bruce strokes the bridge of Roy's nose. "This is usually where Dick's horror and embarrassment for me causes a need in me to change the subject." 

Roy -- swallows. "You -- you can talk --" 

"But do you wish me to?" 

And the thing is, Roy *knows* that his eyes are still really wide -- 

That he's basically *staring* instead of saying or doing anything useful -- 

Or even anything *good* -- like *feeling* Bruce still inside him, still *deep* -- 

Bruce hums. "I'll take that --" 

"Wait! I mean -- I'm sorry to interrupt." 

Bruce sighs, and his eyes are just -- hot. "You told me your pleasure was mine." 

"I -- I meant it --" 

"Did you also mean that *you* are mine?" 

Roy groans and -- clenches -- 

Bruce *pants* and *thrusts*, and fuck, he's *softening*, he shouldn't be able to -- 

Make Roy feel exactly this good. Fuck. Jesus. *Fuck* -- "Yeah. I -- yes, Bruce." 

Bruce closes his eyes -- but only for a moment before he smiles like he's a *crazy* person. Like -- 

Like Dick when he's about to do something that's completely *in character* for him -- 

Roy is *panting* -- 

And moaning into the kiss -- 

And the next kiss -- 

And the *next*, because it's good and Bruce wants him, Bruce *needs* -- 

Roy shivers and moans *louder*, and he's aware that Bruce is moving his arms and hands, but he doesn't register the fact that his arms are free until Bruce is pinning his wrists. Which -- 

Roy *snickers* into the kiss -- 

Bruce hums and licks him so good, so sweet -- 

God, Bruce is making *love* to his mouth, and Roy's *had* that before -- 

But only from his team. Never -- 

He'd never thought anyone else could -- but he doesn't have to think about that, or about anything other than the fact that Bruce just coaxed Roy's tongue into his mouth apparently just to *bite* it -- 

*Jesus*, *yes* -- 

But Bruce is still softening, and it doesn't take all that long before he's slipping *completely* out -- 

And Roy is leaking *come* -- 

God, Ollie would -- what, exactly? Ollie has never cared about Roy's sex life other than renting him Jilly for his fourteenth birthday and *congratulating* him every once in a while for obviously still getting some from *somewhere* -- 

("You gotta take what you want from the world, kiddo -- and have fun while you're doing it.") 

Most of what he wants -- 

Ollie had *winked* at him -- 

Offered to introduce him to his latest conquest -- 

Roy shivers and tries to push it aside, tries to -- 

But Bruce pulls back and grips Roy's chin again. "Tell me." 

"Fuck. Uh. Uh. Can we maybe -- I mean, if you make me say *all* the ridiculously embarrassing things at once --" 

"Did you think we would run out of things to discuss?" 

That -- "Uh. No?" Roy laughs helplessly -- 

And Bruce just -- looks him over. He looks hungry and proud and happy *and* like he's got a project going that may or may *not* involve Roy's ass. After a *while* -- he hums and tilts Roy's face down just enough that Roy has to look up through his lashes to meet his eyes. 

"Yes, Bruce?" 

"Tell me." 

Oh -- right. Roy swallows. "I was thinking about -- Ollie. About -- I was wondering... you know. What he'd think about this." 

"An important question for someone in your position, to be sure," Bruce says, and strokes Roy's lips -- 

Roy kisses Bruce's fingertips because he *has* to -- 

"Beautiful. There are words I would say in Kryptonian, epithets which could be used... Desired one, I am *moved*. Do you understand?" 

Roy shivers and nods -- "Yes, Bruce -- I mean. I think so." 

"Oliver will be displeased by... this. Similarly to how I would be if he ever seduced Dick. The two of us have never seen eye to eye for more than the gross facts of any given mission. Even then, there is always *some* measure of conflict..." Bruce shakes his head once. "I find him... distasteful. I worried that if he set out to take a partner, he would choose someone frivolous, someone with no sense of the *importance* of what we do --" 

Roy winces -- 

"That is not you, Roy. That could never be you," Bruce says, and kisses Roy's forehead. "When he showed you to us, when you befriended Dick and the others..." Bruce shakes his head. "The mission lives within you. I have known since the beginning that your mission looks different from my own --" 

"It -- it doesn't have to," Roy says, and blushes *hard*. 

And Bruce narrows his eyes. "Roy. I would not take the bow from you. Ever." 

"But --" 

"I would teach you far more of the martial arts than what you already know. I would increase your stamina and flexibility. I would keep you by my -- and *Dick's* -- side. But your gift for the bow must never be disdained, as the gift of your body, your need, your *love*... must always be appreciated. Taken and *held*... and I will hold them." 

"I... oh." 

Bruce smiles again, and kneels up to free Roy's ankles. He massages them, and Roy's calves, and Roy's *thighs* -- 

And it just turns into a full-*body* massage from there, with Bruce pushing and pulling and *moving* Roy everywhere he wants him. Roy is *aware* of the sweaty sheets and his own sweaty *body*, but right now it just feels like his sweat is something else Bruce can *use*. Something else he *wants*. 

And yeah, he's moaning for this just like he's never *had* a massage before -- 

Just like Dick had never driven him crazy by being able to do this *without* needing to fuck right after -- 

("But I always want to. Um. Always.") 

And Dick had given him the *shy* smile -- 

They'd only ever jerked *off* together before that point -- 

And Bruce hums and *pauses* with his hands on Roy's obliques. "Where did you go?" 

Oh -- right. "Uh. I was thinking of Dick." 

"Tell me more." 

Roy blushes. "I -- I have a question." 

"I've been... liberal with your questions. I'm often nothing of the kind." 

Roy grunts and -- doesn't hump the bed. Much -- 

Bruce cups Roy's ass and *squeezes* -- "Do you wish to end this --" 

"No! Please --" 

"Shh, beautiful boy. I spoke poorly," and Bruce strokes Roy's ass, Roy's back and the back of his neck -- 

He *grips* the back of Roy's neck -- 

"At the moment -- and for the course of this afternoon -- you've been able to feel my touch here. My *power* over you. Do you understand?" 

"Y-yes, Bruce. I love it --" 

"As do I," Bruce says, and the smile in his voice is just -- perfect. "But there are limitations. Too many questions must be punished. Too much *speech* must be punished. I *must* remove my hand from the back of your neck soon -- there is much which must be discussed between us on an equal footing -- but it need not be immediately. Do you understand?" 

God, every time he *asks* that question -- 

It's like being wrapped up and held under something warm and wet and -- 

And he can actually answer. "Yes, Bruce. I -- I think I could keep your hand there... forever." 

Bruce hums a laugh. "I doubt that very highly... but the thought is immensely warming. Answer me this: Will not having your questions answered now *distract* you?" 

Oh -- damn. "I -- yes, Bruce." 

"Then I must free you... for a time. Are you ready?" 

*No* -- but. Bruce isn't actually kicking him out. Or *going* anywhere. Or -- doing anything but moving them to another *phase*. He -- "Yeah. Yes, Bruce, I'm ready." 

Bruce squeezes *hard* -- and then eases his grip slowly but surely, making it lighter and lighter until it's just -- gone. 

Roy takes a *shuddering* breath. "I... can I ask questions now?" 

"You can do anything you wish," Bruce says, and turns Roy over onto his back *gently*. Almost -- 

*Solicitously* is the word he'd used for describing who Clark apparently *isn't*, and -- yeah. Roy frowns and tries to get his brain right, tries to focus on something other -- than his nine million questions. Roy snorts. 

And Bruce raises an eyebrow *calmly*. *Gently*. He's sitting on his heels with his huge, perfect hands flat to his thighs, and -- 

Roy shivers. "That's -- I mean. That's a little hard to get used to." 

"The change in my... demeanor?" 

"I -- yeah. You're all... different," Roy says, and feels like a *dumbass* -- 

But Bruce looks *thoughtful*, looks -- "I... Kal is the only person who has ever dominated me sexually. I find the transitions between his personae more soothing than distracting. More... hmm..." And Bruce looks at him, smiles *hotly* into Roy's eyes. "It can tell me, better than anything else, both what to expect and who *I* should be." 

And -- 

Roy can see it. Roy can *absolutely* see it, because -- 

("He -- he can do these *crazy* things with his *identity*, Roy. It's like he's more than one person sometimes!" 

"In. In a bad way?" 

"Well... I wouldn't say *bad*. Just, you know, *freaky*. And sometimes a little annoying.")

And Dick had blushed a little like maybe he thought he shouldn't ever admit that Bruce wasn't *perfect* -- 

But Roy had been used to that kind of thing from Dick by then, so he just distracted him with another story about the things Ollie got up to when he was drunk enough and the women in range were pretty enough. 

For now, though -- "I don't. I don't think I need you to be a whole different person, Bruce. Or... even a little different." 

Bruce smiles again and strokes the line of Roy's jaw, where he's extra stubbly. "I'll have to be somewhat different, beautiful boy --" 

"I like that. I mean -- uh." 

Bruce raises his *eyebrow* again -- but there's a lot more heat in the expression than there was a moment ago. He -- 

Roy blushes -- no, he can brazen this out a little. "Heh. I gotta admit, it makes me *conflicted* about growing up." 

And something flares hot and *sharp* behind Bruce's eyes -- 

It makes Roy's cock *want* to twitch -- "Uh. Yeah, Bruce?" 

"You need do nothing whatsoever to continue to be *my* boy, Roy. My beautiful, loving, *obedient* boy." 

"Oh -- Jesus. Yeah?" 

Bruce shows his teeth -- and nods. 

"I -- I can go for that. A lot, I mean. But -- you were saying something about how *you* need to be different?" 

Bruce closes his eyes for a moment -- and when he opens them his smile is still *hot*, but a lot more rueful. "In my more dominant moments, I can be... forgetful. Needy in ways that run roughshod over the needs of others --" 

"You -- you were *fantastic* --" 

"Thank you," Bruce says, and strokes Roy's mouth just a little too lightly -- 

*Something* tells Roy that he doesn't want the kiss this time -- 

And Bruce taps Roy's lower lip. "In the past few minutes, you have asked questions -- and have interrupted me multiple times." 

"Oh -- damn --" 

"Shh. There is nothing wrong -- and there are many things *right* -- with those things when you are free." 

"And -- when you're... something?" Roy shakes his head. "I don't know if I know a word for that. A good word." 

Another rueful smile. "Call it, perhaps, a need in me for more than one sort of companionship -- even when *one* sort is wonderful in every way." 

Oh. Oh -- "You -- want more of me." 

Bruce inclines his head. "Very much so." 

"More -- more than just me being your boy?" And he *can't* keep that from being a question -- 

"Yes, Roy," Bruce says, and he never looks away from Roy's *eyes* -- 

"You -- need me?" 

Bruce opens his mouth -- and closes it and shakes his head. "Yes." 

"What -- what was that?" 

Bruce laughs softly. "I was about to ask you if it seemed so strange. It is... embarrassingly easy for me to forget that I am not as obvious about my needs as it feels." 

Roy frowns. "Uh. Seriously?" 

Bruce strokes Roy's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Harvey Dent recognized my love for him seemingly instantly. He was... exceedingly wise about matters of the heart, and there were no *believable* rumors about the two of us until well after we graduated from Exeter and I stopped being the... hmm... 'desperately creepy cipher' I was in my teens, but it still seemed as though I must have been walking around with a sandwich board detailing my feelings. It didn't help that Lex Luthor was equally knowledgeable about my attraction to him." 

"And... more than attraction?"

"That came later... though not by much," and Bruce blinks several times rapidly -- and then shakes his head. "The boy he was beneath the layers of lies and misdirection, beneath the paranoia and hurt and self-protection..." 

"He's... not there anymore?" *Obviously* not, but -- 

"Not that I can see," Bruce says, and continues to pet Roy's face. "But then, I've offered him none of me save Brucie Wayne since he had his father murdered." 

"I -- I kinda think that's the right decision." 

Bruce laughs again. "Yes, I believe you're right. In any event, I spent much of my formative years feeling *transparent*. I understand intellectually that that is no longer the case, but there is some degree of difficulty connecting that knowledge to... my heart." 

Roy bites his lip -- 

And Bruce presses his thumb there and tugs it free. He has a little frown on his face -- 

"You don't like that?" 

"It's highly arousing. I'd like to concentrate on your questions. On coming to know you." 

"I feel. I feel like you can know everything about me just by *doing* me, Bruce." 

"Truly?" 

Well... "Heh, okay, no. I guess. I guess it's more like... the heart of me. The basic stuff. The -- down-deep stuff." 

"You can't lie while you're making love?" 

"Can *you* -- uh. Never mind." 

Bruce laughs again. "Lie down with me?" 

And Roy's heart kinda *trips* a little -- "Sure," he says, and lies down -- 

But Bruce doesn't follow right away. He's *studying* Roy -- 

Oh, fuck -- "I -- I just. I wasn't expecting... uh. Cuddle." 

"Do you not enjoy it?" 

"No! I mean -- I mean, yeah, I like it. I just don't always -- I mean, Dick is *great* at it -- and you probably already know that..." 

Bruce nods once and keeps *studying* him -- 

Roy blows out a breath. "I'm used to, you know. Back-slaps. Shoulder-squeezes --" 

"Even when you were living with the Navajo?" 

"Well... uh. No?" Roy laughs and scrubs a hand over his face. "It's -- been a while." 

"Would you ever want --" 

"Please? Please -- come down here?" 

Bruce takes a quick breath and then he just *is* -- right there. 

Half on *top* of Roy just like *he'd* been transparent -- 

"This, Roy?" 

"God -- God, yeah -- *mm* --" 

And the kiss is warm and soft, warm and *real* -- 

Roy can feel *exactly* how swollen the other kisses had left his mouth -- 

He can feel Bruce's weight on his *bruises* -- 

"God, you're so *big* -- uh." 

Bruce hums and kisses him again -- 

Again -- 

Roy sinks into it because he *can*, because it's good, because he can *have* it, and have Bruce's leg *shoved* between Roy's own -- 

So fucking *hairy* -- 

"Beautiful... beautiful boy..." And Bruce licks his *face*, and the funny thing is that it *isn't* funny. 

Bruce couldn't be compared to a puppy without a *lot* of drugs in your system first. This -- 

It's just so animal and *hot*, and Roy wants him to lick him all over, wants Bruce's hands and arms and hair and *teeth* -- 

And yeah, Roy's half-hard now, and that *half* is not gonna last even a *little* -- "Please --" 

"Roy. Wait." 

Roy *grunts* -- but that was and *wasn't* the dominant voice. "I'm -- waiting?" 

Bruce kisses him *softly*. "I'd like to speak with you more." 

"About -- uh -- we can talk!" 

A laugh -- "Not if you need... other things." 

"Oh -- Jesus, Bruce, I'm *always* gonna need 'other things'. It's *you*." 

"So it is," and suddenly Roy is on his *back* -- 

And Bruce has one hand on his shoulder -- *pinning* his shoulder - and the other wrapped around Roy's *cock* -- 

"You're going to have an orgasm for me." 

"Ohn -- yes, yes, Bruce --" 

"You are... hnn. You're going to make a fair amount of noise." 

"Yes -- *fuck*!" 

"Do you like being squeezed this firmly?" 

"Yes -- oh -- *oh* --" 

"Do you like being... *worked* like this?" 

And Roy *can't* get out a word, can't -- 

If he can just get his hands on Bruce's hand -- 

Bruce is tossing him off so *roughly* -- 

There's no *slick* -- 

And Roy is already yelling for it, already tossing his head because he knows it'll just keep going, just keep making him *harder* -- 

"Beautiful boy. There is nothing I don't want with you." 

"Please -- *please*!" 

"You are... so responsive. So ready and *willing*," and Bruce growls and bites Roy's *throat* again - 

Roy cries out and *jerks* -- 

*Kicks* when Bruce starts squeezing on every downstroke -- 

Cries out *again* and wants -- "I want -- I want..." 

"*What* do you want?"

"Fuck -- *you*!" 

"You *have* me. What *else*." 

God, that was almost a *wail*, but Roy's still getting harder, still --

It feels like he'll come *before* he's all the way hard, and it's not that that hasn't happened before, but it's always fucking *scrambling* -- 

*Mind*-destroying, like maybe his brain needs time to catch up to how good -- 

How *fantastic* -- 

"*Tell* me." 

"*Nnh* -- oh -- oh, fuck, please, bite me more, please bite me *hard* --" And then Roy's *screaming*, because that's exactly what Bruce is *doing*. Roy's arms, his throat, his *abused* fucking nipples -- 

His throat again and his *jaw* -- 

"Bruce -- *Bruce*!" 

"I will not stop," Bruce says, and Roy's stomach just *flips* -- 

He twitches and *jerks* -- 

His *eyes* roll back, and a part of him really *wants* to kick the rest for being so easy -- 

But Bruce *likes* him that way. Bruce is panting and -- 

God, Roy can *feel* him staring between every bite, feel him drinking him *in* -- 

Roy opens his mouth to moan *louder* -- "Need you!" Oh -- 

And Bruce growls and bites his *ear* -- 

*Tongues* Roy's ear like maybe he wants to tongue Roy's ass again -- 

"Anything! Please, any-- *FUCK*, so *hard* --" 

"You *like* the pain." 

"Love it! I *love* it!" 

"I will not --" Bruce growls again, right in Roy's *ear* -- "It will not be *always* --" 

"I need you to do what you *want*!" 

And Bruce doesn't stop stroking and he *barely* stops growling, but it *feels* like a pause, like something Roy needs to pay *attention* to. And -- Bruce hadn't gripped his neck again. He hadn't -- 

Roy blushes hard *while* forcing Bruce to stop stroking. "Is it -- *please* do what you want!" 

Bruce stares into him and licks his *lips* -- "Truly?" 

"Please! I mean -- *yes*, please!" 

And Bruce -- grins. It's bright and wide and so -- 

It makes it really *obvious* that Bruce is only in his *early* thirties, that Ollie's actually a little *older* -- 

And he can't think about anything when Bruce kisses his way down Roy's chest -- 

When he makes love to Roy's *belly-button* -- 

When he kisses down and down and down and oh, *fuck*, yes, swallows him -- 

Swallows him and *holds* him -- 

Holds his *hips* -- 

"*Bruce* --" 

And the groan in Bruce's chest is so low, so -- 

And Roy is *shaking* -- 

But then Bruce starts *fucking* himself on Roy's cock, and that -- 

There's nothing -- 

Roy hears himself *whimper*, and a part of him thought he was *done* making that noise for the day -- 

God, he could be kicked to *death* without making that noise this much -- 

But he doesn't care. He *can't* care, because Bruce is fucking *using* Roy's cock to do himself -- 

Bruce is -- 

Oh, fuck, he's *looking* at Roy, staring into him and *studying*, yeah, but also just -- 

Still drinking him in -- 

Sucking him *down* -- 

And the only thing Roy can do is push up onto his elbows and *shake* --

Reach out -- 

Bruce *nods* -- 

But it still feels like stealing something to stroke his hair, to -- 

God, just -- 

"Every -- every time Dick does this to me I wanna. Cry a little." 

Bruce squeezes his eyes *shut* -- 

"Fuck, sorry --" 

But Bruce shakes his head *sharply* and opens his eyes again, and he looks almost *angry* -- 

"I'm -- not sorry?" 

*Slow* nod, and it blends right in with how Bruce is doing him -- 

*Taking* -- 

Roy moans and claws at the bed with one hand and pets Bruce's *cheek* with the other -- "Good. It's so -- it's so *good*." 

And Bruce *gestures* -- 

And he knows *from* Dick that that gesture means *more*. And -- he can do more. 

"His mouth. He gets -- he gets so *hungry* sometimes, Bruce..." 

Bruce closes his eyes again -- 

*Groans* again -- 

And then he starts taking Roy *faster*, starts just -- 

He's cutting himself *off* with Roy's cock, but he's still making so much *noise* -- 

And Roy's sac feels tight -- 

And Roy's *mind* feels just -- just -- "I *want* it, Bruce! I want -- God, you *have* to let him suck you --" 

Fuck, that sounded like his *name* -- 

Bruce isn't *stopping* -- 

"Even -- even if you never let *me* -- *HNH* -- oh, God, I'm so *sore* --" 

And Bruce is staring into him again -- 

*Pausing* with his thumb just *pressing* on Roy's hole -- 

And Roy whimpers again and tries to think, tries to -- 

He *knows* Bruce *needs* him to think about things like *bad* pain and *patrol*, but Roy's getting to be pretty damned sure that Bruce has no fucking clue how *impossible* that is -- 

No, he has to be better than that if he's going to -- 

God, he can't really *think* about that --

Can he? 

Isn't that what he's been doing for the last *hour*? Longer -- 

Longer and *more*, because hadn't a part of Roy *known* that he wasn't getting what he needed? That it *was* need, and God, *Dickie* always knew -- 

Dickie was always there to hug him, or smile at him, or touch him -- 

He's gotta make sure Dick has *this*, because it's the best, it's -- 

But Bruce is pulling *off* -- 

"No! Please! I was just --" Roy shakes his head and laughs ruefully. "I got -- tied up thinking about what I -- need. From you. From myself, too -- *oh* --" 

And Bruce *licks* his way off -- 

"Please --" 

"I will give you everything I can, Roy. You need only ask." 

And that sounds like -- exactly what it is. Roy feels himself blushing again -- "Please. I..." 

"Tell me." 

"Suck -- suck more -- *NUH* -- oh, so *hard* -- oh, God, I love your *mouth* --" 

And Bruce hums -- 

And Roy *bucks* -- 

But he doesn't realize that Bruce had let him go until he hears and feels that *gulp* -- 

He's in *deep* again -- 

He just -- 

He just fucked Bruce's *mouth* -- 

And yeah, he's whimpering again, and this time he doesn't fucking care, because you *have* to whimper for that -- 

Clark probably sounds like a whipped *dog* for that -- and -- 

"Dickie -- Dickie would *scream*!" 

And Bruce *shudders* -- 

Claws Roy's *hips* -- 

"And I -- please -- please touch my hole again?" 

Bruce *nods*, and that thumb is right back, so big and dry and *promising*, and -- 

"I want it! I want you *in* me, but I *don't* because -- oh, Jesus, it would be too *much* --" 

Bruce nods *again* and starts rubbing his hole, *pressing* and rubbing -- 

Roy growls and *beats* at the bed -- 

Fuck, he'd forgotten this feeling was an *option*, and now he's panting for it, groaning and just -- 

He's not quite *shoving* his cock down Bruce's throat -- he still has a little *control* -- 

Except that Bruce is looking at him again -- 

*Smiling* at him with swollen *lips* -- 

Roy whines and *scratches* at Bruce's scalp -- 

Bruce *nods* -- 

And fuck, he's going down like a pro again, he's matching Roy's rhythm *perfectly* -- 

Roy can't hear his *sounds* well enough -- but that's because he's shouting again, begging again and nodding like a freaking seizure in *progress* for the feel of Bruce *almost* pushing in and pulling back -- 

And *almost* pushing in again -- 

*Again* -- 

How long will his body make him wait before Bruce can fuck him again? 

How long will he be able to *stand* waiting? He -- "*Need* you!" 

And Bruce's hands are *right* back on his hips, and Roy's cock *flexes* because he just knows Bruce is about to hold him still again, about to make him *take* it -- 

But Bruce starts *lifting* Roy's hips -- 

Fast -- 

Fast and so *hard* -- 

Bruce is making him -- 

Of fucking *course* he could turn getting his mouth fucked into something that makes Roy feel like a *toy* -- 

A *small* toy -- 

A really -- *really* -- fucking *lucky* toy, and God, Roy hopes Bruce still likes the laughing, because he can't help it -- 

Can't *breathe* unless he's doing it to laugh -- 

To moan -- 

To *shout* when Bruce bares his teeth for a *hot* second -- 

So *strong* -- 

And a part of him is thirteen and watching Ollie *lifting* --

A part of him is dreaming-hoping-needing -- 

The rest of him is *getting*, because Bruce is moving him *faster*, Bruce isn't *blinking* -- 

Bruce won't -- 

Won't stop -- 

And he can't laugh anymore, can't do anything but shake and cry and cry *out* -- 

The bruises on his hips hurt so *much*, hurt enough that Roy knows he *should* be wincing, should be doing something other than --

"*Please*!" 

Bruce *nods* and sucks him *harder* -- but somehow it doesn't mean as much as him narrowing his eyes, somehow *that* -- 

No, *not* somehow, it's *Bruce*, and Roy doesn't know if he's impatient or hungry or if he just needs some *Visine* -- but he knows he needs to come. And *that's* enough to make something he didn't know was *tight* in him let go -- 

Open -- 

Open fucking *wide* -- 

And God, yes, now he's yelling his *head* off -- 

Bruce *likes* -- 

And he can't stop trying to *help* Bruce pump his hips -- 

No -- no *rhythm* -- 

Bruce squeezes Roy's hips like he's trying to twist Roy's *pelvis* the wrong way -- 

The bruises are yelling, *too* -- 

But he's open inside, open and just -- 

Flowing -- 

Up and up and -- 

"*Bruce*!" 

And Bruce yanks Roy's cock into his throat and *holds* it there while Roy arches and screams and shoots off, gives up, shoots *off* -- 

God, fuck, *yes* -- 

He never wants to stop -- 

He never wants to stop *shaking* like this, shaking for Bruce, giving it up, giving everything -- 

He's always *wanted* -- 

And the sound of his voice breaking mid-scream *drops* him back into his body, makes him pant and *moan* -- 

Makes him need -- everything else. Or -- 

God, he doesn't *know* what he needs right now, and he used to think he knew what that was like, but -- he didn't. 

*Some* part of him knew he needed *this*, needed the pain and the helplessness and everything *else*, and he really wishes it had been *clear* about that before -- or. 

How young is Bruce willing to *go*? Would he have been able to have this then? 

Would asking for it -- begging for it -- then have ruined his chances for *later*? 

God, he has to whimper for *that*, too -- 

*More* than he's whimpering for the feel of Bruce sucking his way off -- 

Kissing his cock and rubbing him all over again -- 

*Massaging* him all over again, and that -- 

Roy laughs again, cracked and a little louder than he was expecting. 

Bruce hums and works on Roy's thighs *completely* nonchalantly. "Yes...?" 

God, yes. "Uh. Just -- I don't think I'm gonna be able to walk out of this room." 

"I suppose I could allow you to crawl." 

Roy's jaw -- drops. 

Bruce smiles at him *slowly*. 

And Roy's cock twitches like the needy *idiot* it is. Just -- 

How the hell -- 

*What* the hell -- 

Roy closes his mouth. Opens it again -- 

"Wait," Bruce says, and gives Roy's sac a *gentle* squeeze -- 

"Hnh -- okay? Okay." 

"We need to speak more about boundaries. Yes?" 

"Yes. Definitely --" 

"Beautiful boy. Would you crawl for me?" 

Roy's cock twitches again -- 

Roy *whimpers* -- 

Frowns -- 

Bruce hums and begins massaging Roy's chest. "Allow me to amend the question: Would you crawl for me *without* feeling conflict that would wound you so much that you wouldn't be able to enjoy it?" 

"Would *anyone*?" 

"Yes," Bruce says, and it's just flat and calm and *out* there -- 

Like it's something he knows in his bones. Just -- like it's something he's done. Roy swallows. "You. You think I would... get off on it?"

Bruce raises an eyebrow. 

Roy *blushes*, but -- yeah, okay. "That -- wasn't really the question I wanted to ask." 

Bruce nods once. 

"You -- of course you know that, too. God. Fuck. Uh. I think I'm too young for this --" 

Bruce pulls *back* -- 

"No! Jesus, no, I was kidding!" 

"Were you?" 

That -- was another whimper. Roy thinks he deserves it, though. He smiles ruefully. "I can't -- I can't give this up. I mean. I wouldn't *stalk* you or anything --" 

Bruce holds up a hand. 

"Sorry --" 

"No." 

"*Not* sorry, fuck, I -- I'm a little --" 

"You're having a difficult time... transitioning. Yes?" 

Roy exhales in relief. "Yeah. I -- yeah. Can we... maybe if you just... uh." And Roy's clashing with his hair *again* -- "I don't know. Help?" 

Bruce nods thoughtfully and looks distant -- but only for a moment before he turns back to face Roy. "I need not ask you to be... entirely free of me." 

"Oh -- but -- I know you want --" 

"I want you, Roy, and, yes, I want your companionship, but, certain aspects of my personality to the contrary, I am no longer a boy, myself." 

"Really -- really *not* --" 

And Bruce laughs again and goes back to rubbing Roy down. "I can have power over you without -- strictly or sexually -- dominating you. I can... guide you." 

And that -- is exactly what Roy wants. *Fuck*. Roy winces *hard* -- 

"Roy." 

"I'm not -- we're all supposed to --" 

"When you are working... when you are being Speedy, the world needs you to be sure, and calm, and steady." 

"Yes! And --" 

"You are not Speedy in this bed." 

Roy blinks and -- just -- "It's -- that easy?" 

Bruce smiles ruefully. "For some, it's not easy, at all. You, I think, would have fewer problems than I did -- and still do, at times." 

Roy bites his lip -- 

And Bruce -- shakes his head. Slowly. *Gently*. 

Guiding. That's -- Roy takes a deep breath and stops biting. And licks his lips. And strokes Bruce's working hands because he can. "I can do this." 

"Yes?" 

Roy grins. "Yeah. I can -- yeah. I mean... it's a lot easier to think about this stuff when I know you've... uh. Got my back." 

And that gets him the *hungry* stare -- 

"God, Bruce, I think I'd do anything for you to look at me like that. I mean, no, I *know* I'd do anything --" 

"One moment." 

"Uh -- okay. What's up?" 

Bruce hums again and looks down at his cock. He's only a *little* hard, but everything about that look says that that doesn't have to last. 

Roy clenches for the *thought* of that -- 

Grunts and *shifts* -- 

And Bruce starts rubbing him down a little more firmly, a little more *seriously* -- "You must not do anything which makes you so uncomfortable --" 

"That I don't -- can't -- get off on it?" 

Bruce nods. "And it can't simply be physical pleasure. You must keep your emotions in mind, Roy. If you are uncomfortable to the point of true emotional difficulty, you must bow out of whatever it is we're doing." 

"Even. Even if I'm seconds away from coming my brains out?" 

"Yes," Bruce says, and lifts Roy's left arm so he can start working on Roy's hand. 

"That's -- uh. Okay, *that's* really good. Just -- wow --" 

"It's yours," Bruce says. "Tell me of the other." 

Roy licks his lips and -- doesn't squirm. "I just -- I *know* I'd get off on crawling for you. On just -- *really* begging. Sometimes I fantasize about just... kissing Donna's feet, or -- not *even* her feet --" 

"Her... sandals?" 

"Yeah. Yeah. And I -- God, you can *see* me blushing over here --" 

"There is nothing wrong with your desires." 

"Bruce --" 

"There is nothing. Wrong. With your desires," Bruce says, and raises that *eyebrow* at him again. 

"Oh -- c'mon --" 

"Would she think you were weak?" 

"Not -- she -- I mean, she *told* me about a lot of this stuff, and how it goes down on Themyscira, and it turned me on like crazy, and she was totally *also* telling me that it was normal even though it wasn't her *thing* to dominate someone like that, but -- this isn't Themyscira." 

Bruce laughs again and starts working on Roy's other hand. "So it isn't. Just the same, we have established that you need not impress me with your ability to deny yourself that which you desire." 

"I -- need." 

"Yes?" 

Roy swallows. "You think I need it." 

Bruce gets that *distant* look back, and this time it lasts long enough to make Roy *need* to squirm, to just -- 

Bruce holds up a hand, just like *that*, and suddenly Roy is breathing easier. 

Just -- 

Was he born like this? Had he needed it from the *beginning*? How do you even figure something like that *out*? How -- 

"Breathe." 

"Fuck -- I mean. Yes, Bruce," Roy says, and -- breathes. Slow and easy and slow. He hitches a little when Bruce hauls him up, but once Bruce spreads Roy's legs over his thighs -- 

Once Bruce is *holding* him again, and petting him, and kissing his temples -- 

Yeah, he's breathing again. Slow and easy and slow. 

"Good boy." 

Another hitch -- but it's a small one. It's -- Roy rests his forehead against Bruce's shoulder -- 

Bruce *hums* -- and cups the back of Roy's neck. 

"I -- I really love that." 

"Good. In answer to your earlier question... I don't know you well enough to be sure if you need to crawl for me --" 

"God -- go on. Please." 

Bruce nods. "For another boy in something like your situation... but there *are* no other boys like you, Roy. The question is impossible to answer with anything save the cues and clues you have given me. Those cues and clues suggest that you would take great pleasure -- and perhaps even exaltation -- from submitting to me utterly... but the possibility that it would hurt you makes me hesitate." 

Roy -- clutches at Bruce a little. Just. He can't help it -- 

"You don't want to be hurt that way." 

"N-no, Bruce." 

"Good boy," and Bruce kisses his cheek. 

"I don't think --" 

"Many people your age risk terrible injury to their psychological health as a matter of course." 

"I -- I came here even though I didn't know --" 

"You didn't know if I desired you in turn, or what I would do if I did. You did, however, know that I always tried to help you and your team, and that I gave Dick happiness," Bruce says, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow at him. 

And -- that's true. Roy grins. "You're making it sound like I'm good at *planning* or something, Bruce." 

Bruce doesn't smile back, though. He just -- 

He *stares*, and it's that hungry look, and it's -- 

Fuck -- 

"Bruce?" 

"Stay with me." 

"I. I --" 

"Stay with me and, among other things, you *will* be a good tactician." 

"Oh. That's. I guess it's nice to have a logical reason?" And Roy laughs, but it sounds fucked to his ears -- 

"Is pleasure illogical?" 

"What --" 

"Is need illogical -- no. Is *answering* need illogical." 

And now Roy *knows* he looks freaked, looks -- 

He wants -- 

"I want you," Roy says, and Bruce just *nods* -- 

And *stares* -- 

"Oh -- God, don't make me whimper again --" 

"I love that sound." 

Roy -- moans. "Uh. Uh. How about that sound?" 

Bruce smiles and strokes Roy's hair. "I love that, too." 

"Oh. Good. That's -- uh. Is it okay that I'm freaked?" 

"Yes." 

"That's --" Roy swallows. His mouth is dry -- "That's good, too. Do you really --" 

"Yes." 

Okay, yeah, that's a whimper -- 

And Bruce smiles -- 

And leans in -- 

"Wait! Please. Please?" 

Bruce stops -- and veers off to kiss Roy's cheek. "Tell me." 

"Could you. Could you tell me *why*?" 

Bruce kisses Roy's cheek again, and again -- 

Kisses his way to Roy's ear -- "I would love you even if the only positive thing you were capable of was making Dick happy." 

Roy grunts. "He's -- he's a happy guy --" 

"And you make him happier. He speaks about you... the *way* he speaks about you..." And Bruce sighs and nuzzles Roy's ear. 

"That -- that feels -- you love *him* --" 

"And the man Harvey used to be, and the boy Lex used to be, and every man inside Clark, and every woman inside Barbara --" 

Roy grunts again -- 

And Bruce hums. "She has less favorable things to say about you." 

Roy *blushes* -- 

And Bruce *licks* his cheek and pulls back to meet his eyes. "Clark came to me today specifically to speak about you." 

"Oh. I. What?" 

A laugh... and Bruce strokes Roy's cheekbones with his thumbs and tilts Roy's head back just like -- 

Just like *that* -- 

"He knew I was aroused. He deduced -- easily -- that I was thinking of Dick. *Brooding* about his *absence* and --" 

"Oh, God, call him *home*! You *know* he'll come --" 

"Shh. I'm not finished, beautiful boy." 

"Fuck -- I'm sorry. Go -- more." 

Bruce kisses him *softly*, and then pulls back again. "He knew that my control was slipping around Dick. It took very little conversation before he knew, with all of himself, that I could not reach for Dick without doing my level best to crush him in my grasp." 

"He -- he suggested me? To... warm you up?" 

"To *open* me. To... hmm. Force me to be the man I should've been from the beginning." 

Roy frowns. "I don't understand. And --" 

"And you believe that you are a 'stand-in.' I feared just this when Clark began speaking of you, when *I* began... rising for you." 

"I -- yeah." 

Bruce presses his thumb to Roy's chin. "Clark believed that I could make you feel as special as you are. As *needed*." 

"He... did?" 

"Yes. He believed I could show you myself, my... the heart of me. He knew I desired you long before. He knew that desire *could* lead to the two of us finding great pleasure together -- and far more than that." 

"And he just -- he was... watching me?" 

"He wants you badly." 

And Roy *knows* he looks confused, but -- "Jesus, is this what you guys do? Just -- *not* go for the people you want? Make other people do it? *What*?" 

Bruce laughs again. "When the two of us make love... we are never alone with each other." 

"What -- you mean you're always thinking about other people?" 

"Sharing them. Though he wants to share you with me rather more directly than that." 

Roy -- gasps. "I -- is that what *you* want?" 

Bruce smiles. "Perhaps eventually. When I feel mature enough not to... hoard you to myself." 

Oh. "I. I wasn't expecting... that answer." 

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "How does it make you feel?" 

"I'm. I don't --" 

"Answer, don't think." 

"Bruce --" 

"*Now*." 

"*Fuck* -- it. It makes me feel really wanted. Really -- uh. Desired," and Roy blushes again, and blushes *harder* than that because he knows Bruce can see that there's more -- 

Because he knows that Bruce *knows* -- 

And he knows that Bruce wants him to say it. "It makes me -- feel. Like I could be loved." 

And Bruce nods slowly -- 

And Roy knows that Bruce could hear -- maybe *feel* -- even more than *that* -- 

But then Bruce takes a deep breath and pulls Roy into another hug -- and Roy knows that he's going to get away with it. 

For now. 

Whether or not he *wants* to -- 

He doesn't want to. He just -- he *doesn't* want to, and that means that he needs to push back from Bruce -- 

And meet his eyes -- 

And -- pant. A lot. And -- fuck, he doesn't want to chicken *out* -- 

"Roy. Speak." 

And then he's breathing again, breathing *right* and *nodding*. "You want me to move in with you." 

"Yes." 

"You -- for -- you want me to leave Star City. For good." 

"I..." Bruce laughs again -- 

Roy *seizes* -- 

But then there's a huge hand around Roy's throat and *squeezing*. "Only this, beautiful boy: I would like to believe that I could *countenance* having you leave here again for anything more than a mission with your team, but I do not think I can. Do you understand?" 

Another *blush* -- but that was about as clear as anything could get. Just... Roy nods as much as Bruce's grip *allows*. 

Bruce loosens his grip *slightly*. "I wish to take your doubts, Roy." 

"And... crush them?" 

"To powder, if at all possible." 

"I -- I still don't *understand*, Bruce!" 

Bruce nods slowly. "I believe that will take time. For now, understand that I've admired -- and desired -- your humor, your warmth, your obvious sensuality --" 

"Obvious?" 

"Perhaps you don't notice yourself when you're stroking down the length of a perfectly-formed arrow; or polishing your bow with firm, even motions; or... mm. You have... a certain smile." 

Roy -- breathes. "What. What kind of smile?" 

Bruce strokes Roy's mouth. "It's... slow. Warm. Pleased. Perhaps more pleased than truly happy. Your eyes grow heavy-lidded. Your shoulders lose much of their tension. You breathe in... mm. So deeply. And then your soft lips pull back from your teeth, showing them wet and sharp and bright." 

"Oh... wow." 

"Certainly, that's one of the words that's come to mind when I've seen you using that smile." 

"You." Roy laughs helplessly. "I don't think -- I mean. You're turning me on with *me*, Bruce!" 

Bruce smiles, and that's the real wet, the *real* sharp -- "An excellent and worthy subject, to be sure." 

"God. Uh. Fuck -- I'm going to be saying a lot of that. Just -- while I'm here," and Roy can't quite manage more than that, *better* than that -- 

But then Bruce lifts Roy's hand and places it over his *heart*... and it's just -- pounding. Hard and fast like the fuck Roy wants now, again, a *lot* -- 

"Bruce... I. Yeah. Yes. Yes." 

Bruce nods once, and leans in *slowly* to kiss him. 

Roy could stop him, could *deny* -- 

Slow this *down* -- 

Keep himself *clear* -- 

None of that is true. He *lunges* in for the kiss and opens wide for it, moans and *begs* for it -- 

And moans even more when Bruce grips the back of Roy's neck with one hand and Roy's *seriously* bruised hip with the other -- 

When he pushes his tongue in so slowly, so *steadily*, so *surely* -- 

God fuck *fuck* -- 

He's only a little hard, and he *won't* actually get that much harder for a while, but he's hard inside, needy and fucking *stroked* -- 

By a big, warm, *strong* hand. 

Roy shivers and sucks Bruce's tongue -- 

Bruce *nods* -- so Roy goes down on it as much as he can, licks it and sucks it and *loves* it, *begs* -- 

And Bruce just keeps giving it to him. After a while, Roy realizes -- not for the first time -- that he's pretty much completely incapable of having any kind of time sense when sex is this good -- 

It's so much more than *sex* -- 

And blushing just makes Bruce kiss him *harder* -- oh. Roy opens his eyes -- and Bruce's are open, too. Bruce is watching him, seeing him -- 

Bruce has a smile in his *eyes* -- 

And maybe it's okay -- *more* than -- to close his eyes again, to give in and give it up, to *stop* sucking -- 

And get his mouth fucked, slow and *right*, while Bruce claws his way down Roy's back *slowly*, seemingly hitting *every* welt on the way down. 

He's cupping Roy's ass before Roy realizes that he'd arched right out of the *kiss* -- 

But he's also smiling. 

Roy smiles back ruefully, feeling -- really fucking shy. But not in a bad way. 

Bruce wants him here. 

Bruce *wants* him here!

At *some* point, they have to have a *long* talk about Dick --

A talk *neither* of them interrupt for the sake of coming their brains out -- 

But... 

Right now, there are more than just a *few* things that tell Roy that they'll get through that, that just maybe they'll *all* get through that, and -- fuck, maybe they'll invite Clark to that talk, too -- 

And Roy's laughing again, just like that, wild and breathless and -- and happier than he's been in a long damned time. 

Bruce is grinning like a *maniac* for it. 

Roy leans right in and kisses that grin -- because he can. 

~end.


End file.
